


Adrien, Good Friend

by L3245



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Identity Reveal, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Comedy, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Fluff, Gabriel Agreste's A+ Parenting, Jealousy, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Light Angst, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Identity Reveal, Nyandere Adrien, Oblivious Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Plagg is a Little Shit (Miraculous Ladybug), Rabbit Alix Kubdel | Bunnyx, Romance, Weaponized Obliviousness, Yandere Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, no physical harm, only one chapter was beta'd whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 27,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23944375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L3245/pseuds/L3245
Summary: Everybody secretly has Feelings for Marinette, so they’re always asking her to do things for them. Because Marinette is Way Too Nice, she never turns them down and thus is too busy to spend time for herself. And with him. But mostly for herself.Luckily, Adrien, Good Friend that he is, does it for her one person at a time.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Ivan Bruel/Mylène Haprèle, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Plagg/Tikki (Miraculous Ladybug)
Comments: 315
Kudos: 599





	1. Nathaniel

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome. Hope I can make you smile.

Adrien is just hanging around near the art room when he hears two familiar voices enthusiastically chatting away inside—no, he doesn’t have art for a class, but it’s on the way to his fencing practice! Which… he doesn’t actually have today, but he’s just getting used to the layout of the school! Never mind that he’s been attending public school for almost two years now, _just shut up, Plagg._

Anyways—those two voices. Adrien recognizes them as one Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Nathaniel Kurtzberg, and from the sounds of it, they are getting particularly _chummy_ in there.

The door suddenly opens, forcing Adrien to utilize every Chat Noir reflex he has to duck into an empty classroom. Marinette soon walks out with a light blush on her face. Adrien admires how cute and _like a friend_ she looks before turning his attention to the boy in the art room sporting a similar blush.

_Hm…_

“Thank you for showing me that, Nathaniel. It was beautiful,” she says sincerely, and Adrien’s heart skips a beat at how—how _friendly_ she looks, even though they all have a test tomorrow in chemistry and Nathaniel has undoubtedly kept her from studying at home like the good student she was. He glares at the redhead, feeling something ugly.

Pity.

 _Poor Marinette. She really is too nice to tell him no,_ the model thinks with a shake of his head.

And so, like the Good Friend he is, Adrien sneaks into the art room, not making a sound until he is nearly looming over Nathaniel’s workstation.

“Hey Nathaniel!” he greets brightly.

“Hello Adri—” Nathaniel’s reply gets caught in his throat as he registers the Very Scary expression on the normally sunny boy’s face. “Uh… hello… Adrien?” He can feel a cold sweat start up. Did someone turn the thermostat all the way down? And dimmed the lights?

“I was just passing by when I heard you and Marinette and got curious! What were you guys up to?~”

“W-well, we were just—”

But Adrien doesn't let the other boy finish, cutting in, “Even though she’s busy with studying? You took up her precious time with some romantic—”

Nathaniel coughs in disbelief. “N-n-no, it’s not—”

“Because you know my good friend Marinette, she’s always so oblivious and nice that she—"

“I was just asking her for pointers for a comic I’m making! That’s all! It was a one-time thing!” the introverted artist chokes out. Well, he’s not actually being asphyxiated, but with the threatening, Very Scary way Adrien was looking at him, it sure _felt like it._

The oppressive atmosphere relaxed, but only slightly. Adrien was smiling at him still, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Really now? You weren’t wooing her with some romantic flowery artsy stuff?” he says cheerfully, clearly unconvinced. “So, it’s okay if I see it too?”

Nathaniel practically throws his sketchbook at his classmate, looking very much like a victim of a back-alley robbery. Adrien’s “thanks a lot~” does nothing to change the image.

“Oh? Is this… Ladybug?” Adrien suddenly asks, looking intrigued. He skips to the back of the book and thumbing through several sketches the redhead had done when he was feeling— _ahem—_ inspired. The blond taps one of the drawings. It's one of the racier ones, with a questionable back angle of Ladybug’s skintight suit. “You drew her really well, especially here. Great dynamic pose.”

Nathaniel’s eyes widens at a sudden realization. _Adrien must have some idea of his infatuation, right?_ Maybe if the artist were clearer about his crush— _ah, no, he meant admiration—_ on the spotted heroine, Adrien would leave him alone about his completely platonic friendship with Marinette. Surely if the blond knew where Nathaniel’s interests lay, he could finally have some peace! His heart soars with hope.

He clears his throat. “Um, Adrien,” Nathaniel says shyly, but firmly, “I don’t think of Marinette like that. If I… were to have a crush on anyone, it’d be Ladybug, but she would never… notice someone like me… I think…”

Pause. The artist waits for Adrien’s reaction. The blond is caught off-guard momentarily by the confession before a slow, even scarier smile spreads onto his face.

“ _…what did you just say, Na-tha-ni-el?~”_ Adrien questions in a sing-song voice, and the redhead can see his life flash before his eyes.

He sincerely wishes he had drowned in the Seine when he had the chance.

-x-

“I’m so sorry I’m late for our study session, Adrien,” Marinette apologizes profusely. “I got held up after school today and lost track of time.”

“It’s really no trouble at all. Trust me, Marinette,” Adrien replies easily from the comfort of his home.

He flashes his computer’s camera his most _friendly_ smile. He himself had only managed to get home and turn on the computer quickly enough to receive her video call. It takes every bit of his model training to look calm and composed and not out-of-breath from the running he had done to get here.

She stills for a second, eyes wide and pen going slack in her grip at the sight. Her lips part slightly. Adrien wants to just reach over and boop her nose to snap her out of that cuteness— _someone could get the wrong idea and try to ask her out and that would just eat up more of her time, you know?_ Then she shakes her head with a bemused smile and quickly reddening cheeks.

“Okay, okay, but you’re not letting me off the hook if this happens again,” Marinette concedes. Adrien nods, knowing there won’t be a next time—at least, not from a certain traumatized artist. She turns back down to their chemistry review. “So, I’m stuck on balancing question number 8…”


	2. Max

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha-ha, hello again.

Next time comes by sooner than expected. Just a few days after the dreaded chemistry test—which Marinette had passed with flying colors, _no, Plagg, he’s still not thinking about how she hugged him the day they got their grades back, stop making silly assumptions—_ Adrien comes across one Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Max Kanté just outside the library. Instead of walking over and greeting them like a normal person, he immediately steps back behind the corner to surreptitiously watch them.

Marinette is already dressed to leave, backpack slung over her dainty shoulders. “…don’t think I can, Max,” she says hesitantly.

“Please, Marinette, you’re the most skilled gamer in class! It’ll only be a couple of rounds, just so I can gauge my skill level for this year’s UMS III Interschool Tournament. I estimate I’ve improved by at least 40 percent!” the boy with glasses pleads.

“My parents have a huge wedding order to fill and I have to be there to help them out…”

“According to my calculations, the chances of your parents noticing your disappearance are less than 2 percent,” Markov chirps. Currently, the flying robot’s face is set to ( ╹ ◡ ╹ ) for maximum persuasive cuteness. Marinette— _the nice girl she is, tch, really, how dare people take advantage of that to see her acting this friendly?—_ eats that right up, blushing and shifting her feet.

Marinette bites her lip, clearly torn between duty and desire. Bluebell eyes dart to the door, to the console, back to the door again, then back to the console again. Finally, she sighs, smiling with resignation.

 _“Well…_ I guess I can do a _few_ games.” She smirks. “It’s been a while, but I think I’ve still got what it takes. Prepare yourself, Max!”

“Haha, yes!”

-x-

Naturally, Adrien can't sit by and just let all that happen. What kind of friend would he be if he let his very good friend Marinette spend some quality one-on-one time with a fellow male classmate that may or may not have a crush on her? A bad one! And he isn't a bad friend. Nope. Not even a little bit. He is just a Good Friend that is Very Concerned about his classmate’s familial relationships.

So maybe he embellishes the truth—read: _lies_ —when he claims he heard Alya saying she received a call from the Dupain-Chengs asking where their daughter was. Upon hearing that, Marinette nearly trips out of the room in a panic with a hurried apology to Max and a profuse thank-you to Adrien.

 _Father always says the ends justify the means when it comes to the people you care about!_ Adrien thinks to himself.

“Oh, hello Max!~” Adrien greets cheerfully. “Were you guys about to play some Ultimate Mecha Strike III? May I?” Without waiting to be rejected or allowed, the blond takes up Marinette’s empty, still-warm spot in front of the television and picks up the abandoned controller.

The moment Marinette departs, the library seems to shrink, feeling less like a spacious archive and more like a cramped cage. Or like a lion’s den, with Max being the only man inside.

 _Th-this expression on Adrien’s face. There is no logical explanation for a Look that Scary to exist on the class cinnamon roll!_ Max screams internally.

Markov watches quietly, but his face adjusts from ( ╹ ◡ ╹ ) to ( ╹ ◡ ╹;).

“…I heard what happened with Nathaniel,” the gamer finally utters. He sounds calmer than he is.

He pushes up his glasses with a finger, becoming surprised when the black-rimmed frames slips a little on his skin. Why are his hands already so clammy? And seriously, is someone messing with the thermostat and light switch? It’s at least 4 degrees Celsius below room temperature and Max would bet his watch that the room’s brightness had gone down by 28 percent, if not more.

“Oh, Nathaniel and I had a misunderstanding about Marinette,” Adrien replies. “But we worked it out, just as I am sure you and I will too. Go ahead and pick your fighter.”

Adrien leans forward to the screen, a shadow falling over his bright green eyes. His lips curve upwards and the sight’s not exactly pleasant, but Max thinks that this sort of devious, confident look is not exactly bad to look at? _Maybe? It’s kind of attractive?_ Adrian flashes him a feral grin and locks in NAD03 without looking. The black cat brawler spawns, appearing even more menacing than its cutesy design had any right to be— _are those bloody claws? And sharpened fangs? When did Adrien install those cosmetic mods onto his console?!_

( ╹ ◡ ╹;) becomes ( ╹ ◡ ╹;;;).

Max gives one last effort to reason with… whatever illogical notions the blond model is carrying. He’s only 16, after all. He has so much to live for. “This really isn’t necessary, Adrien. Marinette and I are just good friends.”

“ _Good friends_ , huh? Well, Marinette is that, yes. Yes, Marinette really is, considering she’s always helping people she doesn’t want to.”

Evidently, Max had said something wrong because Adrien’s smile somehow becomes both bigger and darker, taking on an almost manic edge. The boy with the glasses thinks he can understand just how Nathaniel had felt now.

Markov chooses this moment to say, “I am sensing danger, Max’s distress, and… someone’s persistent need for… a beverage, I think. Maybe not a beverage. For a... person?”

“That’s called thirst,” Max offers nervously.

“Ah, thank you, Max. Anyways, I do not know what fear is, but I think that this may be the closest I have come to the feeling,” Markov says, its screen appropriately rearranging its expression to ( ╹ ⌓ ╹;;;;;;).

“ _Pick your fighter now, Max,~”_ Adrien hums serenely.

“R-right.”

-x-

Five minutes later finds the trio in various states of sanity.

Max—poor kid—is lying in a catatonic state on the floor, the screen displaying NAD03’s brutal victory over his own MX-01. Markov flits over his owner and best friend worriedly, all the while wondering how certain fighting combos could be allowed in the game given how creatively violent they were. Adrien is on the phone with Marinette, who had called after she had arrived home and found that her parents hadn’t been looking for her at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry Marinette. Guess I misheard things,” Adrien responds apologetically, holding the cell phone a little closer to his ear. He takes a drink out of a water bottle he had taken out after his torture session— _I mean, victory_. A gentle expression takes over his face. He looks like an angel, but even Lucifer started out with a halo and wings.

Another break of silence as the girl responds.

“Hey, are you still on for a few UMS games tonight? I know your family is pretty busy with the Chastain’s wedding reception. A four-tier wedding cake, a single-tier chocolate cake, and 500 red velvet cupcakes with buttercream frosting _is_ a lot.”

 _How does he know the specifics? He doesn’t even work there though?_ Markov can’t help but think.

“All right. I’ll log on tonight then. Later!”

The blond takes a sip of his water. Innocently, he offers some to Markov, but the automaton shakes its head rapidly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ╹ ◡ ╹;) Formatting is difficult.


	3. Kim

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning, everyone.

Lê Chiến Kim is dying.

His lungs feel like they are about to explode, his legs are practically jelly, and his stomach is aching from both exertion and skipping breakfast. This is, truly, torture, and that isn't factoring in the psychological damage.

It is barely even 6 AM in the city of Paris and already the athlete had sprinted from the Eiffel Tower to the Place des Vosges, from the Place des Vosges to the Arc De Triomphe, and from _there_ to the Montparnasse Tower… you get the point. He’s been _around,_ all in the name of training with Adrien Agreste of all people. The two had made plans to run around Paris, racing to each monument using whatever path they wanted, so long as they just ran.

In a thought bubble above Kim’s head, a tiny, cartoonish Adrien repeats the same words that had convinced the athlete to do this in the first place:

“ _Every good coach knows that running is 50 percent mental!~_ ” Chibi-Adrien sings with an admittedly off-putting smile. “ _Hey-hey Kim! Since you have clearly mastered the physical aspect of the exercise, let me help you do the same with the psychological. In return you can teach me how to run better!~ What do you say?~_ ”

Of course, Kim had accepted. There are two reasons.

The first: the Vietnamese boy has plans for this weekend with Marinette, and he wants to be in tip-top shape for it!

The class president had looked so stressed out these past few days, so Kim had offered to help her relieve it by teaching her some swimming techniques he had picked up over the years. After all, exercise was a good way to release endorphins, and more endorphins meant less stress! It had taken a bit of convincing, but eventually Marinette had given in.

The second: Max.

Max was there when Kim had scheduled the lesson with Marinette. For some reason, the gaming enthusiast had attempted to persuade him to call it off. He had even texted Kim earlier this morning warning him not to accept the training lesson from Adrien. The lack of confidence in him had stung, but it only spurred the athlete on. He wanted to prove to the other boy that he could be a good coach, even with someone as clumsy as Marinette.

 _My own best friend doesn’t think I can do it? Hah! I’ll show him!_ Kim had thought.

In hindsight, he wishes he had stayed in bed until it was time for school.

Rounding the corner alone causes another blow to his quickly crumbling psyche. The final checkpoint is the park right outside the Dupain-Cheng bakery. Given the hour, the park is empty save for one blond that sits casually on the edge of the fountain looking like he had been waiting ages for Kim to arrive. His classmate doesn't even look out of breath. There are no cars or bicycles around to indicate he had ridden here—not that Kim ever thought the blonde would cheat, but _still!_

_HOW? How was ADRIEN able to get to all of the checkpoints before HIM? How was this possible?!_

“Hey, Kim, didn’t you know?~ Anything is achievable with the power of friendship!~” Adrien declares happily, like he wasn’t just implying that he could bend the rules of time and space. Kim shudders. The contrast between innocent optimism and the radiating dark, demonic energy underneath the words is too much for him to handle.

“I… thought… this was… a test… of my mental… hah… oh god,” he wheezes, legs giving out underneath him from sheer exhaustion.

“This _is_ a test of your mental fortitude!~”

_Oh. Oh no._

Too late, the athlete grasps the meaning of those cryptic texts. They were to warn him from what came next. He can't move now though. There is no escape.

Like a switch from Day Mode to Night Mode, the smile disappears from his classmate’s face. Kim watches as Adrien crosses one leg over the other imperiously. While unhurriedly peeling a banana, the blonde model looks down at Kim with hooded eyes. He doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly, deliberately, _menacingly_ … takes a bite of the fruit. And chews. And _swallows_.

Kim gulps.

Adrien sets the half-finished banana aside and leans forward, resting his chin on his palm. The plain ring on his finger glimmers dangerously in the soft dawn lighting.

“Now that I have your attention, Kim, let’s have a _chat_ about Marinette and the private swimming lesson you two have this weekend.”

-x-

At the private-swimming-lesson-turned-group-swimming-hangout, the Distressed Duo of Max and Nathaniel welcomes their newest member and bemoans their shared experiences of having to deal with this special brand of dumbassery. Joining them is a tall, redheaded girl that pats Kim’s back sympathetically.

“I can’t imagine being that oblivious to a crush. Poor Ondine.” Adrien, who was watching them from the edge of the pool, shakes his head in sympathy. He is unmindful of the way the rest of the class looks like they wanted to strangle him. “Really, someone should tell Kim.”

Luckily, their remaining classmates’ arrival prevents potential murder. Alya, Alix, Juleka, Rose, Mylène, and Marinette all come in at once already changed into their swimsuits. They all look good, but Adrien only has eyes for one person. The last wears a two-piece that consisted of a navy background with white polka dots. Red ribbons accent the suit. To say it fit her well is an understatement.

Because they value what sanity they still had—which is very, very little at this point—a certain Traumatized Trio only looks at Marinette for 0.01 seconds. Combined.

“Hey Marinette! Nice to see you could make it. You look very pretty!” Adrien waves at the half-Chinese girl happily. Pink flowers and sparkly hearts practically bloom in the background of his smile. He leans back on his elbows and looks at her behind his ruffled blonde hair, a bit disheveled because he didn’t bother to brush it knowing he would just get it wet.

Marinette’s jaw drops. “Er—uh, you make it nice to see? Too? Could?” she stammers out. Alya smacks her on the back, snapping the other girl back to reality. “I mean—it’s _very_ nice to see you too, Adrien. I-I’m very happy that _you in particular_ were able to come,” she amends.

She’s blushing so adorably, and her eyes are doing that little thing where they tried to look at everything except him but ended up gravitating to him anyways. Adrien’s smile widens at the sight. The sparkles surrounding him intensify. A Very Romantic aura emanates from every inch of his being. The whole class watches with bated breath for his response because with a pointed declaration like that from Marinette, surely not even Adrien could misinterpret!

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss hanging out with all of my friends for the world,” Adrien replies sincerely.

Nathaniel, Max, and Kim jump into the deep end of the pool with no intention of resurfacing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a side note, I really despise jealousy in real life. Past... people in my life have been complete jerks to my friends out of some preconcieved notion of ownership. Adrien's antics are cute and comical in a vacuum, but I don't actually condone them. 
> 
> ...oh well, at least I can excuse it as being well-intentioned~


	4. Lila

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you call a violently possessive kitty?

At a newly opened teahouse, an unexpected couple took a seat. Adrien Agreste tapped the side of his oolong tea thoughtfully. The tea reminds him greatly of Master Fu and makes him feel just as wise. In front of him and trying—but failing—to hide her discomfort with the Chinese theme, is Lila Rossi nursing a water.

“I have to admit, Adrien, I’m surprised you invited me here today,” the brunette simpers gamely.

“I had to. You know why I asked you out, yes?” the blonde responded calmly. He takes a sip of his tea.

“Of course,” Lila said with a not-quite-smile, only one corner of her mouth tugging up. _Smiling must be so hard for her now._ “This is about Marinette, isn’t it? You scheduled this date on the same day and at the same time as my meeting with her.”

“Yes. We have to talk, but I didn’t want her to hear us. I wanted to be with you alone. Lila…”

He meets her eyes over the teacup. Lila lets out a high-pitched, girly sob and blinks one eye at him. Adrien remains resolute. He will not let her crying or rapid blinking— _attempts to cover up her red eyes, he’s sure of it_ —dissuade him from his duties as a Good Friend.

“So forward, but you’ve kept me waiting for so long.~ Adrien, yes, I _—”_ Lila breathes, her cheeks flushed red— _she really must have been crying before this meeting. She knew what this was about._ Adrien’s heart went out to her, really, but he had to give it to her.

“Lila, I know about your Feelings for Marinette. I’m sure you understand that while I am happy for you embracing your bisexuality, the way you are going about it is all wrong, making her uncomfortable, and I am asking you to stop.”

“…” Lila gives him a dumbfounded silence.

“…” Adrien keeps smiling patiently.

“… _what_.”

“Your feelings. They’re pretty obvious,” he repeats. “Here, let me show you.”

The boy fishes a school-issued tablet out of his messenger bag. A few taps of the screen and Lila is confronted with a 143-slide presentation titled “Crush Hour 4”. She could only watch in disbelief and horror as Adrien went right into it. In Crush Hour 4, her interactions with Marinette over the past week were detailed. This included, but were not limited to:

> The amount of time Lila spent staring at the back of the other girl’s head intensely from the across the room. Red arrows delineated her line of sight— _and were those tiny hearts around the half-Chinese girl’s head?_
> 
> Lila leaning one arm on the wall beside Marinette’s head as she cornered her with a smile. Right below the image was an accompanying illustration of an anime couple— _with the guy having blonde hair and the girl having black—_ doing the same thing. “Kabedon!” was written as a caption below both images, along with a smaller “must research more later”.
> 
> A count of how often Lila muttered Marinette’s name under her breath throughout each day, along. The average ended up being a _clearly false_ 14.3 times per day.
> 
> Lila sitting in a bush, hiding behind a tree, or crouching under a table with her phone art, clearly trying to take a picture of a half on-screen Marinette… who was oddly enough in a similar position, but there was nothing in Crush Hour 4 commenting on it.
> 
> And, most recently, Lila asking Marinette out to a private conversation after school, a manila folder tucked underneath her arm. There was a list to the side of the what the contents could possibly be, ranging from a love confession to risqué pictures of… _Ladybug?_ Apparently, Lila had a crush on the heroine as well, given she treated her similarly to Marinette.

“…and that is why,” Adrien finished simply, “I am asking you to keep your distance from Marinette. She’s not interested. Also, stop taking pictures of her. Taking pictures of other people without their knowing is a bit creepy, wouldn’t you say?~”

_But you just?!--_

“I…” Lila tries to form words, but for once, her silver tongue failed to produce anything. She was powerless against Adrien. No amount of preparation from Nathaniel, Max, or Kim could have saved her from this feeling of utter helplessness. _How does one even respond to this?_

“I don’t have a crush on that—that...! Ugh!” Lila shouts. The café’s patrons shoot glares at her for disrupting the peace. “ _She’s_ the one with a creepy crush! Adrien, she’s clearly _stalking you._ I was going to _blackmail_ her with showing proof of it to your father! _”_

“Lila, it’s not nice to project your own feelings and activities onto others.~ You should just be honest with yourself,” Adrien interrupts her sagely, seemingly not hearing the last two sentences. “Anyways, please leave Marinette alone or there will be consequences.~”

The twin-tailed girl feels her brain crack a little and lets out a frustrated scream. In her exasperation, she completely misses the hard edge to that angelic smile.

-x-

The next day’s lunch hour finds Lila sitting on a bench on call with Gabriel Agreste. She watches the group of Adrien, Marinette, Alya, and Nino laughing and chatting together. “Miss Rossi, I appreciate your concern over my son’s acquaintance developing an… unhealthy obsession with him, but this picture you sent me just now does not prove anything,” Gabriel was saying.

Lila frowns. For some reason, she couldn’t find the manila folder of incriminating pictures, nor could she pull up the files from her phone. They were just… gone. Hence why she was here trying to gather more evidence of that Dupain-Cheng brat’s obsession.

“One moment. I’ve got the perfect shot.” She raises her phone.

However, just as Lila was about to tap the screen, Adrien turned straight to the camera with a smile that was as bright as the sun and a light touch to Marinette’s shoulders. A translation: _take another and I will burn you to ashes with a fiery friendship._ Her thumb freezes and the phone slips out of her hands, landing hard on the pavement with a crack.

 _I-inhuman!_ she shrieks internally, scrambling down on her knees—anything to avoid that gaze.

“Miss Rossi?”

“I-I’m afraid I can’t take a better picture right now, sir,” Lila stammers, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. Her heart was beating fast, and the worst part? She didn’t know if the reason was _entirely_ fear, or a mix of fear and attraction. Such was the power of Adrien’s duality. “I c-can try a-again later if you would like.”

There was a long pause as Gabriel unwittingly decided whether Lila died—in every way that was not physical—today. Then: “No. That will be all, Miss Rossi. Goodbye.”

_What the hell? Was that p-pride in his voice?_

A click, and then the brunette teenager was free to let out a shuddering breath and collapse on her arms on the school table. Her visions of fame, fortune, and an adorable little family were up in the air now. Was it really worth it, if it was with the Agrestes? She groaned.

-x-

In the Graham de Vanily residence of London, England, a single telephone rang dramatically. When no one came to answer, the device went to voicemail. A clearly-pleased-yet-trying-to-be-gruff voice echoed through the halls soon after the beep.

“Amelie, this is Gabriel Agreste. Please disregard our previous discussions pertaining to Félix and Adrien’s questionable hospital records. Adrien is _undoubtedly_ my son.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nyan-dere.
> 
> Also, I realize that Lila is Italian, not black, so the Crush Hour pun doesn't really work here but just p r e t e n d, lol.


	5. Alix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ehhh, admittedly not the best one. Had fun though. I was originally going to do all of the Secret Garden girls in one post, but that's too much and I didn't want to cheapen character presence. All the students in that class are good beans that deserve love. Except Lila.

Days after the Lila incident and during a free class period, one Alix Kubdel slides into the empty seat beside the class president.

“Hey Alix,” Marinette greets pleasantly.

“So… Marinette,” Alix says. It really should have been a red flag that not one, but _two_ heads twitched to acknowledge the skater. However, the pink-haired girl didn’t notice as she continued, “Do you remember the gift you made me for Miss Bustier’s friendship project?”

“I made you an armband to hold your pocket watch securely while you trained,” the half-Chinese girl replies, nodding fondly. Adrien nods like he’s a part of the conversation even though no one’s talked to him and he’s staring straight ahead. Marinette’s gift had been both creative and practical.

“Yeah! And it’s totally _awesome_ ,” the short-haired skater grins. “Yo, do you think you could make three more, but for different phones? A couple of the guys on my lacrosse team want some too and are willing to pay.”

“Well, I’d have to find the pattern again… not to mention they want armbands for phones and not pocket watches, so I’d have to adjust…”

Alix leans in with a big grin and clasped hands. “But it’d be so cool if you could do this for us. _Please_ Marinette?”

Marinette looks off to the side, clearly avoiding her gaze while she tried for another excuse. Adrien realized too late when he found himself locking eyes with the navy-haired girl. They stared at each other for a moment. Flushing with guilt at being caught eavesdropping, Adrien is the first to look away.

“Actually, you know what, I think I have enough time to make them over the weekend,” Marinette tells their classmate kindly. The blond’s eyebrows rise up before furrowing in confusion. _What could possibly have changed her mind?_ “I’ll need to speak to each player for their measurements and phone model though. When and where is the next practice? I will most definitely make it.”

An image of Marinette squeezing— _I mean measuring—_ the biceps of lacrosse players comes to mind. No, Adrien’s heart didn’t fall at the thought. And no, he’s not jealous—he’s just worried is all. Marinette would most likely do _too_ good of a job and she’d get more orders, which meant less time for herself. _That’s all, Plagg!_

“Rad. Let me get you the details.”

“Plagg~” Adrien murmurs.

While the two girls are preoccupied with exchanging information, said kwami of destruction discreetly zips out of Adrien’s backpack. Adrien casually leans on his elbows, giving Plagg enough cover to be close to him but still be out of sight of everyone else. Plagg looks at the increasingly familiar expression—a creepy half-smile coupled with a shadow that covered the model’s eyes—on Adrien’s face and sighs.

“Aw man. Again? Thermostat duty sucks,” he groans.

“In five minutes, yes~” Adrien hums cheerfully. “And I think you meant ‘thermostat duty _blows_.’”

Plagg takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.

-x-

The next morning finds Alix in her own seat in a near comatose state. She didn’t move save for the occasional twitching whenever she caught a flash of green or gold. Her blue eyes were glazed over with a look that Has Seen Too Much and Yet So Little. The only words her that could be coaxed out of her were “cancel practice”, “oh god”, “why are you like this”, and “I need an adult”.

Right behind her was an unlikely congregation of Nathaniel, Max, Kim, and Lila, also known as the Fearful Foursome, soon to be known as the Frightened Fivesome. They offer her their condolences—or rather, Nathaniel shrinks in on himself in much the same way, Max silently offers Alix a distraction video game, Kim pats her on the back, and Lila grumbles that at least Alix’s phone memory didn’t get completely busted. No one else in the class quite understands what is going on, so they do their best to ignore the weird group.

That is the sight Adrien witnesses as he walks in for the morning. As he sits down, he flashes them all a sunny smile and waves happily. They grimace. Luckily, a certain pig-tailed girl saves them from further mental torture when she shyly approaches his desk.

The whole class watches with bated breath. It was like watching a train wreck happen in slow motion.

“Good morning, Adrien. I have something for you,” Marinette says. In her hands was something small, green, and rectangular. Adrien straightens in his seat.

Marinette shuffles embarrassedly, clearly nervous. He smiles encouragingly at her, but that only seems to make it worse.

“I uh, noticed you looked really interested when Alix asked me to make her some armbands… I didn’t really want to make more for people I don’t personally know, but you looked interested, so I figured why not? Haha! I made you one first! Here,” she reveals, tossing it to him. When he doesn’t say anything, Marinette rambles on, “It wasn’t a big deal because I already knew the diameter of your bicep—uh, I didn’t memorize it or anything like that, it was in the Mensuel issue #51 interview on page 26, 4th question down. And I also already know what phone you had because you use it here all the time, not like I stole it that one time or anything. And! It’s green like your eyes, but if you want a different color, I can take it back—”

“No! No, I love it, thank you,” Adrien breathes. He stares at it in awe. A fluttering feeling blooms in his chest. His eyes were beginning to water and his throat was starting to choke up, but he manages to say from the bottom of his heart, “You’re a really good friend, Marinette.”

“I… thanks, Adrien.” A few tears roll down Marinette’s cheek.

 _S_ _he must be so happy,_ Adrien thinks, swooning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Side note--it's so amusing to see how much engagement there is in the comments. Thanks for being just as entertaining as--if not more than--the story itself, haha.


	6. Ivan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I uh, didn't almost forget him, I swear.

“Ivan, I’m sure it’s beautiful. Please believe me,” Marinette was repeating for the umpteenth time.

She’s been talking to Ivan Bruel for the better part of the morning, much to a certain blond’s consternation. To the horror of the Frightened Fivesome, she reaches over and places her hands over the heavyset boy’s clenched fists. Green eyes snap to the sight of tiny hands barely encompassing large ones. Ivan shakes his head no, to which Marinette sighs.

“Stay right here. I’ll be right back, and when I am, you’re reciting that love poem, okay? You can do it!” she says imperiously before lightly jogging out of the room.

Adrien takes a moment to enjoy her scent as she passes by him—floral from her rooftop garden, with a bit of the savory smells from her parents’ bakery, _ah that’s so nice_ —before dragging his chair next to Ivan’s. He turns it around so that the back is facing the other boy and straddles it.

“Hello… Adrien?” Ivan asks hesitantly, not knowing where this was going.

“Hey Ivan, I heard you were going to recite a love poem for Marinette?”

“Well, yes, but it’s really for—"

“ _Ah!_ Maybe I can help you? I’m something of a poet myself~”

Adrien thinks back to Valentine’s Day when he received that beautiful red valentine from his lady— _of course, it’s from Ladybug_ , _Plagg, why do you always laugh when this is brought up_ —and the poem he had written in return. In Adrien’s humble opinion, his responding verse was S+ tier, and what kind of friend would he be to Marinette if he let her receive anything other than— _I mean less than_ —that? The obvious solution was to _assist_ Ivan.

And if it wasn’t up to standard? Well, Marinette just couldn’t have that. Nope.

He explains all of this to the other boy with a very straight expression. From the now fearful look on Ivan’s face, he understood the gravity of the situation. Adrien hoped so. Adrien’s singsong “ _please start right now~”_ must have been _encouraging_ enough because Ivan shudders and finally begins.

“You, the air in my chest,” he mutters hesitantly, “to whom I confessed… we’ve stood time’s test…”

The blond model tilts his head thoughtfully. It was true. Marinette _did_ invoke that feeling of air. He recalls how her mere presence could make him feel lighter, like his burdens were less heavy. That was a point in Ivan’s favor. However, Adrien had always thought that that feeling was unique to him _. Ivan getting that right was…_

_…_

_…very good. Yes, that is a point for Ivan!_

The atmosphere between the two boys suddenly gets unbearably heavy, as if gravity itself was trying to suppress them. Adrien looked as cheerfully unfazed as ever while Ivan’s breaths were starting to come in even shorter spurts. As an experiment, Max throws a paper ball straight into the space between the two.

The ball drops to the floor and is crushed into the second dimension.

Bravely, Ivan continues despite—or because of--the Scary Aura emanating from the class cinnamon roll. In between shallow breaths, he recites, “Who brings love… and laughter? You… are the answer. With the way you look at me— _look, Adrien, I_ —"

Adrien leans forward and gives him his best reassuring line. “ _These are all very true things about Marinette! Finish the poem, I-van~”_ he tells him with a voice that pitched manically higher with each word.

We-will-never-be-sorry-happy-one-year-anniversary-Mylène-I-love-you!” Ivan finishes in a rush, looking like he was about to pass out.

“…what,” Adrien says blankly.

Fortunately, the classroom door opens and in strides in a certain navy-haired girl. Her clear blue eyes search the room before first landing on Ivan, then Adrien. She looks surprised. “Um, what are you two doing?” she asks.

“Oh. Hey Marinette!” Adrien beams, turning his full attention to the girl.

It’s all the distraction Ivan needs to escape.

He shoots out of his seat and runs straight out of the classroom… to find Mylène standing in the courtyard. He freezes. Stuck between two of his greatest fears—the adoring girlfriend he’s terrified to disappoint, and the class angel turned oblivious devil _—_ the choice was easy because _seriously, how can anyone be that willfully unaware?!_

“Mylène!” he cries.

The short girl looks surprised but runs up to greet him. “Ivan!”

Meanwhile, from within the classroom, Marinette looks at Adrien with bemused admiration. Shaking her head, she tells him, “Wow. I’ve been trying to get him to talk to Mylène about their anniversary all morning and you manage to do it in five minutes. At this point, I was hyping Mylène up to approach him herself. How did you do it?”

_Oh. That’s why the name on the poem said Mylène and not Marinette—oooohhhhh._

“Some things only we guys can get,” Adrien replies jokingly, quick to recover from the most obvious revelation anyone could ever have—well, the second-most obvious, but he didn’t know that. Marinette crosses her arms and snorts good-naturedly. He slides off the table to lightly tap her nose, making her face turn completely pink from the teasing touch.

Adrien doesn’t notice that though. He’s too busy watching Ivan and Mylène in the courtyard.

The heavyset boy produces the poem from earlier, this time for its intended recipient. To Mylène’s delight, he recites the heartfelt words—a task made pathetically easy from Adrien’s forced “practice.” Once he’s finished, she jumps up and throws her arms around her boyfriend’s neck. They both have the biggest smiles on their faces.

“And some things, only couples will understand,” Marinette sighs. She sounds happy, but also a little envious. Adrien glances at her, not liking the tiny frown on her face.

“You know, Marinette,” he says, enjoying the way her bluebell eyes return to him a little too much. He decides right then that he _really_ does not like that sad expression. It had to go. Marinette had no business looking like that while she was with him. “You and I make a pretty good couple too.”

She chokes on air. “ _C-c-couple?!”_

“Mhmm,” the model continues undeterred, “because the two of us worked together to help Ivan give Mylène a nice anniversary gift. I don’t think he would have gotten this far without our _coupled_ efforts.”

A pregnant pause ensues. From the back of the classroom, loud slapping sounds can be heard as the Frightened Fivesome facepalm in unison.

“Adrien that’s not—” Marinette begins, but cuts herself off. For a second, she looks like she’s about to tear up— _she must be so happy again, I am so good with words_ —but she ends up just shaking her head with a giggle. That little laugh makes the blond feel lighter than air. “You’re right. We do make a good… couple. Thank you.” She goes back to watching Ivan and Mylène, the frown replaced with a pleased grin.

Unfortunately, Ivan chooses that exact moment to look in their direction. And, well, that little laugh had made Adrien so happy. He’s over the moon at how something can be so cute, and really, it’s all because of Ivan, isn’t it? Thanks to Ivan, Marinette was happy, and he had front row seats to it.

Adrien _sparkles_ at the other boy.

“Ivan! Your hug—is—too tight—” Mylène sputters in her boyfriend’s suddenly vice-like grip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full poem:
> 
> "You, the air in my chest,  
> to whom I confessed,  
> We've stood time's test.  
> Who brings love and laughter?
> 
> You are the answer.  
> With the way you look at me,
> 
> We will never be sorry."
> 
> Poetry is hard, so I literally just took Ivan's original love song/confession and replaced a couple of words, bahaha.


	7. Mylène

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is up fellow humans. Hope you guys are doing well in the exams and the tests and the life.

One week after her and Ivan’s anniversary, one Mylène Haprèle finds herself standing in the library with two tickets to _Scary Haunted House Movie VIII._ She’s been watching Marinette study from a distance for a couple minutes now. Nestled in her ear is an earpiece courtesy of Max and Markov. For the better part of the past five minutes, she had been talking back and forth with Alix and what seemed to be half the class.

“Excuse me, but why do we need a plan? Can’t Marinette just go to Adrien and ask him out, instead of…” Mylène waves around the tickets. “Instead of me asking Marinette out. I don’t think I understand.”

“Seriously, Mylène? This is Adrien we’re talking about.” came Alix’s staticky reply. There were murmurs of agreement behind the pink-haired girl.

“Adrien? Don’t you mean Marinette?” the dreadlocked teenager questions, confused. _Why would Adrien be the problem over the notoriously tongue-tied girl?_

“Well, you see, Adrie—"

Her words were interrupted by a scuffle, followed by a “ _stick to the plan, genius—I mean, pal”,_ “ _d-don’t scare her”,_ and “ _give me that_ ” that sounded like Lila, Nathaniel, and Kim.

“…sure. Marinette, right,” the Vietnamese athlete answers after commandeering the communicator from Alix. “Just ask her to watch the movie with you and everything will _finally_ be back to normal. Just trust us. Max says this plan is foolproof.”

In the background, Max cut in, “Actually, I’m coming up with 32.33, uh, repeating of course, percentage, of survi—” A loud _smack!_ and _thud!_ echo through the earpiece. The gamer goes silent.

“Foolproof,” Kim repeats confidently.

“…”

“…”

“Okay… You can count on me then!” Mylène declares, finally approaching the lone girl in the library. Marinette was such a nice girl, and she deserved some happiness of her own like what Mylène had with Ivan. If she could do that for the designer-hopeful… well, she was just doing her part as a good friend.

For some reason, a sense of uneasiness washed over her at that last thought.

That same dread grew exponentially as Marinette put aside her study materials and happily—if not confusedly—accepted the movie invitation. It swelled and manifested in a cold sweat when the earpiece went radio silent after an ominous sounding “I love you” from Ivan. It became almost unbearable when a certain blond slid up against the bookshelf beside her, arms crossed and an innocent smile playing at his lips.

“Hey Mylène,” Adrien casually greets her, and in a flash of realization, the shorter girl understands her friends’ weird argument. And the convoluted plan. And her boyfriend’s final statement. “I heard you asked Marinette out to the movies?~”

 _Stay strong, Mylène_. _It’s just Adrien Agreste. He’s nice!_

“Yeah. She and Ivan helped me overcome my fears when I was Horrificator. I wanted to say thanks by taking her out to the new Scary Haunted House Movie.”

Adrien closes his eyes and hums in agreement—or was it just a prelude to an onslaught of angelic terror? Mylène doesn’t give him the opportunity because she knows her role in this plan now. She was to be the savior, the light in the darkness, the deliverer from this harbinger of fear! Despite her shaking, the teenaged girl manages to stand her ground and meet that sunny look head on. She will never surrender! Never!

Jade green eyes open to meet hers lazily, like a hungry tiger waking up from its nap.

…she throws him the ticket, which Adrien catches happily.

“Thanks a lot. I’ll pay you back later~”

“So… I can leave now?” Mylène asks hopefully.

Adrien smiles beatifically as the Scared Six offer varying degrees of sympathy at the other girl’s naiveté. They were there too, once. None of them stepped in to help her, knowing it would do no good.

Against a rose-pink gradient backdrop— _when and how did it get there—_ dusted with sparkles and cherry blossoms, the blond model leans forward and grabs both of the shorter girl’s hands in his own. “ _But Mylène!~”_ he half-whines, half-pleads. “I’ve never been to the movies before, so I need your help or Marinette will think I’m a bad friend on our friendly date!”

She begins to sing “Smelly Wolf” in her head.

-x-

Marinette, thankfully, was not disappointed when he showed up instead of her friend.

There were a few close calls, like when he suggested that they share the popcorn and drink, or when he lifted the armrest between their backrow seats. She had looked so shocked that Adrien had worried he was doing something wrong _._ Thankfully, Mylène’s completely voluntary advice for being a Good Friend had worked because now Marinette was snuggled up to his side and taking whatever pieces of popcorn he offered.

 _This is actually really nice,_ Adrien thinks serenely.

He gently prods Marinette’s bottom lip with another piece of popcorn as the ghostly figure onscreen stalked the new owners of the haunted house. This time, half-Chinese girl shakes her head absentmindedly. She was too focused on the heightening tension of the movie. With a shrug, the blond pops the buttery treat into his own mouth.

He turns back to the screen just in time for the first jump scare. Marinette, along with several others in the audience, screams.

She takes it a bit further though, draping her other arm over Adrien’s torso and hiding her face into the crook of his neck. And if she _maybe_ plays it up a little for the excuse to smell Adrien’s scent— _like the sun, warm and airy, with undertones of agarwood and oak moss, as well as the faint twang of aged cheese_ —this close? Well, no one was around to call her out for bad acting.

They’d need to be small enough to not be seen. They’d also need to have night vision to be able to see in the dark, and thus see Marinette taking full advantage of the situation.

So yeah, no one.

Adrien stiffens, but not out of fear. He’s both too out of this moment and too into it, thoughts consumed with _somethingisthreateningMarinette, GoodFriendseliminatethreats, IamherGoodFriend, therefore, thisthreatmustbeeliminated._ He stares right back at the furious spirit as it shrieked its grievances at the audience. His lips curl into something like a grin.

“Aha… ha… ooh, they got us good there, didn’t they, Adrien?” Marinette whisper-laughs into the boy’s ear. She looks up when he fails to respond. “Adrien? Hello?”

Adrien had been staring at the screen that was still fixed on the ghost’s terrifying visage. At her voice though, he looks down to give the bluenette a comforting smile. “Hey, sorry for getting distracted,” he says, arm tightening around her reassuringly. “You okay? I was worried for you there.”

Marinette blushes, but nods.

With a wordless agreement to continue working on the popcorn together, the two teenagers go back to watching the film. For some strange reason though, the flick seemed to switch genres completely from horror to hurt, comfort... and mystery? The scene after the jump scare ended with the spirit sobbing to itself in a corner while the human homeowners did their best to resolve the source of its distress.

They never did, and some of the movie watchers agreed that perhaps that was the scary part after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I know how the writers of MLB feel now, with the episodic nature of the shows. Also, I just wanted to say that the chapter count is projected. I'd like about 16 parts to this, haha.


	8. Juleka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi

“Plagg. Don’t you think you’re letting your holder take things too far?” Tikki says deliberately. The kwami of destruction, who had been lounging peacefully against Adrien’s bookbag, pops open an eye at her.

Because he knows that _voice._ That’s the voice Tikki uses when she thinks he’s Messing Up all of the Unspoken Kwami Holder Dynamics. It’s the voice she employs when she thinks she could do a Better Job because Plagg is a Lazy and Bad Kwami, unlike herself. It’s smug and condescending, and honestly, grates on his nerves.

 _The only thing that should be grated is cheese,_ the black kwami thinks vehemently. He almost drools thinking about it. _Parmigiano Reggiano, Grana Padano, Pecorino Romano…_

“Plagg! Are you even listening?

“Huh?” Plagg replies eloquently. He meets Tikki’s blue-eyed glare and shrugs. “Relax, sugar cube. Adrien is totally _fine._ This is normal for boys his age.”

“Pfft. Right, stinky sock. Look over there.”

Currently, said normal boy was leaning forward with both palms flat on the table. From the sunshine beams practically radiating off of Adrien, Plagg doesn’t even think his holder realizes exactly how scary he is being by looming over one Juleka Couffaine like that. He’s too far away to listen in on the conversation, but he can read some of the words on Juleka’s lips.

“It’s uh… just uh… some makeup, nobigdeal… gonna teach her afterschoolater,” the innocent girl was saying. Blah blah. Something about a fashion blog.

Plagg inwardly sighs.

“It’s all normal behavior! You’re just out of touch,” the kwami retorts. Privately, he agrees with Tikki, but he’d never admit that. If he eats his words now, she will bring this up for _at least_ three centuries like she did with the Black Death. “Who was the last male Ladybug you had? Oh, that’s right, _Marcus Aurelius,_ from almost 2000 years ago. You have no idea the intricacies of the modern male mind.”

A flicker of doubt crosses Tikki’s eyes. She rests her tiny round chin in a hand as she considers his words. “Well, you have a point…”

Meanwhile, Adrien produces a pull-down chart. The kwamis, Shellshocked Seven, and Juleka are confused as to when he installed that thing because (1) no one remembers it being there, and (2) it opens directly in front of Juleka. The blond then begins to enumerate the reasons why Marinette was so pretty that she didn’t need the extra makeup knowledge Juleka could provide, and besides, even if she did, he was obviously the better choice to teach her? Even though he was a male model and didn’t do his own makeup?

Plagg isn’t sure. He doesn’t speak oblivious.

To distract Tikki and himself from the sight, he adds, “Besides, sugar cube, doesn’t your human do ‘weird’ things like this sometimes? This is totally a classic modern renaissance human mating ritual. Postmodern. Baroque.”

Tikki pulls a face, but she seems to fully believe him now. “I think I understand now, Plagg. Even after all these years, there is still much to learn from humans.”

“Exactly,” the kwami of bullshitting replies with a smirk. If Trixx could see him now… “Oh, give me a second, sugar cube. Responsible kwami duties.”

Plagg suppresses his sigh as he flies up to the school thermostat. He sets the temperature as low as possible before floating over to the light switch. He keeps an eye on his holder the entire time, waiting until Adrien does that One Smile to flip the switch off and on as fast as he could. The shy girl seems to curl up on herself, even as she nods and accepts the contact information Adrien gives her in exchange for letting him use her makeup bag.

_The things I do for this kid…_

Still, when Adrien returns to him with a mauve makeup bag, a promise to include Juleka in a photoshoot, and a date— _ahem, makeup tutorial session—_ with Marinette, Plagg thinks it might be worth it all, if only to keep his kid happy.

-x-

Later that night, Ladybug and Chat Noir are sitting on the Eiffel Tower recharging after Mr. Pigeon’s eighteenth appearance. They were high enough that no one could see them, while a thick metal beam separated them so that they couldn’t see each other. Adrien loved little moments like this, when he could talk to the girl beneath the mask. He wished he could do that every day.

“You all right tonight, kitty? You seemed a little distracted earlier.”

Adrien tilts his head confusedly before realizing she couldn’t see him. _“_ What do you mean?”

Ladybug snorts. The model gets a dopey smile on his face at the sound. “ _My name is Chat Noir and I’m paws-itively head over heels for you, oh nameless maiden. Please step on—I mean notice me!”_ she says in a joking impersonation of him. She sounds genuinely happy for him though. “You kept staring off into the distance with that dumb smile. There is someone, right?” she questions, a little more seriously this time.

“Well, there is a girl I spent time with today, but—”

“Hah!”

“No! Me? Have a crush on her?” Adrien asks incredulously. He thinks on it, shakes his head, seems to think on it some more, then shakes his head again. Plagg watches his holder with a So Done expression on his face. “No, she’s just my phone’s background picture. No, that’s… no I don’t. I don’t!”

“Pfft. Right, kitty.” Ladybug was clearly unconvinced, if her amused tone was anything to go by.

“It’s the truth! Mar—she’s just a really good friend.” The blond manages to catch himself before Marinette’s name slips out. He breathes a sigh of relief. However, he doesn’t miss the loud choking sounds coming from the other side of the beam. He straightens worriedly. “Milady? Are you okay?

“ _Koff, koff,_ I’m—I’m friend—I mean, I’m just— _uhagh, oh geez—_ I’m. Just. Fine. Something went down wrong,” Ladybug coughed. “Could you say that again?”

Adrien feels a surge of concern for his superhero partner. All this talk about Marinette must have thrown Ladybug off-kilter, making the spotted heroine feel very sad and insecure about his own feelings for her. With a tender smile, the blond teenager leans onto the metal beam with his palm and forehead. He’d put those fears to rest.

Plagg stares at him. He has just realized he _can_ understand oblivious, and can understand it loudly, clearly, and telepathically.

_It’s not worth it._

“She’s just a really good friend. You know I only have eyes for you, bugaboo~” Adrien promises easily. He then chuckles, trying to lighten things up with a joke. “But if I _do_ have a crush on her, then hey God, strike me dead— _AHH_!”

Suddenly, Adrien was free-falling, the portion of the beam he was perched on having instantly crumbled to dust. Plagg calmly watches his holder plummet to his doom. Slowly, he takes another bite of his camembert, even as Tikki and Ladybug’s worried cries echo behind him.

“CHAT?!”

“Plagg, what did you do?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bai


	9. Rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the jokes/references in here are from the WIP game "Yandere Simulator", so I apologize if some stuff doesn't make sense, haha. Explanations for YanSim references are in the End Notes!

Rose Lavillant is confused.

Over the past month, she’d seen the School Atmosphere drop from its usual range of 90-100% to flirting with the edges of 20%. All of the usual consequences were present: she could see and hear from greater distances, there is a slight paranoia lurking in the back of her mind that wasn’t there before, most of her classmates huddle together with shifty eyes, and the ambient music always playing over the school speakers had slowed down, warping slightly. That’s—well, it’s not fine, but it was expected. Protocol. There are _rules_ to this universe, you know, and at least whoever was tanking the School Atmosphere was getting those parts right. There was just one problem.

Everything is bathed in _pink_ instead of _shadowy grey_.

She narrows her blue eyes, pouts, taps her lips, and lets out a contemplative _“hmm.”_ After a moment, time seems to slow down as the petite blonde observes her surroundings again.

Some of her school supplies—the pencils, scissors, and juice box—and the fire extinguisher are traced in cyan.

Nino, Alya, Chloe, and Sabrina are outlined in green. That’s good. They’re all her friends, even if Chloe can be mean sometimes.

Nathaniel, Max, Kim, Lila, Alix, Ivan, Mylène, and Juleka—oddly enough, because she still considered them her friends—are all surrounded by a faint golden glow, with the last girl fluctuating between yellow and rose. Rose frowns at the sight. She remembered the pink around her girlfriend being dominant and brighter… 

Sapphire blue orbs narrow further into slits. _Juleka. Is. Yellow. Why. Not. Pink._ A Very Scary smile comes onto her face as she continues her observations.

Adrien isn’t here yet.

Marinette has a blindingly pink outline.

That threw her for a loop. Marinette? Pink outline? Rose thought the half-Chinese girl was very pretty and had a sweet personality, but she never really was her type. And besides, Rose had eyes for one person only and the blonde knew the other girl was head over heels for Adrien. _So why the pink outline signifying a crush?_ She grabs her unopened drink and makes— _stalks—_ her way over, intending to investigate further.

It had to be Marinette’s doing. She was the one plummeting the School Atmosphere and throwing off everyone’s relationships. She was the one angling for what was _Rose’s._

“Juice?~” she cheerfully asks the navy-haired girl. Cute little flowers seem to blossom around the blonde.

Marinette had been staring and sighing at her phone’s lock screen—a shaky selfie with a certain model, both of them with makeup smeared unartfully over their faces and grins bright enough to make a blind man see, _and Tikki can you believe it? AHHH_! She had a dazed, faraway look in her eyes. At Rose’s voice, she blinks, startled.

“Hah?”

Rose giggles, prodding the other’s fingers with the juice box. Marinette nods and reluctantly shuts off her phone. She reaches for it, but the other girl pulls it just out of reach. Marinette’s forehead crinkles with confusion.

“Um… did you need something, Rose?”

“ _Mhmm!~_ Since you’re the class president, as well as a good friend, I was wondering if you could help me solve a mystery in the class!” Rose singsongs brightly. “You’re not really busy with anything right now, right?~”

Marinette smiles warmly, not noticing the Mildly Threatening in a Cute Way aura that had settled over them. “Yeah, that’s true. We’re pretty good friends,” she agrees. She casts a final, lingering glance at her Adrien lock screen before putting her phone away. “Right! So, what’s the mystery?” she asks energetically.

“It’s about Juleka,” Rose whispers, and she doesn’t have to embellish the worry, fear, and gnawing _anxiety_ she feels when she thinks about her girlfriend’s potential shift in attention. She _stabs_ the juice box with a little more force than necessary. “But I don’t want her or anyone else in the class involved.” Two pairs of blue eyes look at the rest of the class, but most of them staunchly refused to look at them.

Luckily, Marinette seems to know a thing or two about keeping secrets. She nods seriously. “Right. Let’s go somewhere private and discuss it.”

“Yes, let’s. How about the northwest storage room on the first floor?~”

“Sounds perfect. Lead the way!”

-x-

Rose is… confused as to how she got here.

One minute she’s escorting Marinette with the sole intention of asking her _exactly what the flying flip she was intending with Juleka_ , and the next she’s sitting in the front row of chairs in an empty orchestra room. She shakes her groggy head, confused and trying to pick up the pieces. Slowly, the past five minutes become clearer.

She had been walking with Marinette when they had run into Adrien, who had an enormous black music case on his back. Apparently, his father had wanted him to branch out into other musical instruments and had saddled him with a cello. Also apparently, he had gotten lost several times trying to make it to the music rooms. Because the nearest orchestra room was on the other side of the school and Rose always had that desire to help her friends, Rose had volunteered to walk Adrien there alone. The conversation with Marinette could wait.

And that was how Rose ended up here, sitting in front of Adrien Agreste while he watched her from his perch atop the director’s seat. He has no outline.

She couldn’t move. She wasn’t bound physically, no, but there was something about the other blond that kept her in place, like a mix of gravity, fear, apprehension, and attraction. It was a familiar combination, but she’d never been on the _receiving_ end of it.

“Hey Rose!~” Adrien hails cheerily. “I think you and I need to have a chat about our mutual friend Marinette, ne? Like, you can’t just corner her and question her in a scary manner when it comes to Juleka or someone else you care about, ne? Because that’s just not nice?~”

_Oh. OH._

“I mean, I really didn’t want to step in like this, but I wouldn’t be her good friend otherwise, you know?~” he says with wide, innocent eyes.

Rose isn’t confused anymore. In fact, everything just became painfully clear. Marinette was never the threat, and she was outmatched from the start by the boy she had least suspected. “No… it can’t be! The low School Atmosphere… the pink filter… the weird outline colors messing with my vision,” Rose whispers in horror, covering her open mouth with both hands. “It was _you?”_

_“Yup! Sorry for the confusion~”_

“And… there’s no cello inside that case?” she squeaks. Adrien’s aura was suffocating.

 _“Nope!~ And I’m sure you know what that mea—_ oh, hold on. I think Marinette’s texting me. She’s such a good friend.”

_Bzz! Bzz!_

The gravity lifts. Adrien pulls up a white sleeve just a bit to expose a deep green armband fastened around his bicep. He takes his phone out of said armband and lights up at the notifications. From her position, Rose can just barely make out the boy’s lock screen picture. It’s an exact mirror of Marinette’s. With a pink bubbles filter. And little hearts drawn around the edges.

Her mind cracks a little.

Meanwhile, Adrien was reading out his own responses. “Sorry… got… lost again... but… you look… very cute… from yesterday…” His phone buzzes instantaneously from Marinette’s response.

_Why is he like this._

“L-O-L-O-L, no u.”

_I miss Juleka._

“Be there… soon… L-O-L, smiley face,” Adrien murmurs with a smile—and _did he just wiggle his eyes and bite his lip?_ He hits send and reassumes his Extremely Threatening in a Cute Way aura. “Now, where were we?”

Rose sighs. She knew where this was going, had gone through the motions before from the other side. A lot of people wanted a goth girlfriend without actually respecting them, you know? She’s been in Adrien’s shoes in getting certain... people off of Juleka’s back. Might as well get it over with, maybe pick up a few things on the way.

“The part with the cello,” Rose says helpfully.

Adrien beams. “Ah, yes! So as I was saying…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School Atmosphere in Yandere Simulator reflects your actions:  
> It starts at 100% and gets lower when you do suspicious things (a little if a classmate goes missing, a TON if their dead body is found with no explanation).  
> There's High, Medium, and Low atmosphere.  
> The thresholds are 100%-70%, 69%-21%, and 20% or below.  
> The lower it gets, the more alert students are and the darker the world becomes (harder to hide suspicious activity and to see far away).
> 
> Yandere Vision grants helpful visual cues:  
> cyan outlines = useful objects in homicide/framing a rival/etc  
> green = friendly  
> yellow = people that suspect you  
> pink = your senpai  
> no outline = you/the yandere
> 
> Other references:  
> northwest storage room on the first floor = kidnapping room  
> cello = good place to hide and transport dismembered body parts


	10. Sabrina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the formatting in this one killed me. i spent like half an hour translating it onto AO3 and AO3 keeps adding random spaces between paragraphs every time I shift from Rich Text to HTML mode and??? never doing a text fic ever ever no not ever never

> **Alya Césaire**
> 
> Hey guys! New page, new intros. Post a picture of yourself and let’s have fun here on Facegrammer!
> 
> **_[imabitchandabossandishinelikegloss.xd.txt]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Nino Lahiffe, Alix Kubdel, Rose Lavillant** and **9 others** like this.

Marinette snorts, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. _What is this? The fifth social server we’ve had this month for the class?_ she thinks.

> **Alix Kubdel**
> 
> new site… I already know Nino will never post here either lol :P
> 
> **_[alixwithbunnyears.lol.mp4.]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Alya Césaire, Lê Chiến Kim, Nino Lahiffe** and **8 others** like this.

“What’s that, Marinette?” comes a tiny voice from her shoulder.

It's a lazy Saturday afternoon. The young bluenette is currently on her bed and lying on her stomach. A soft blue glow illuminates her delicate features. In her hands is her phone, where she thumbs through the several selfies her classmates had just sent. At Tikki’s inquiry, Marinette moves her fingers out of the way and lets the kwami see.

“It’s Facegrammer. Kind of like Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter combined,” the half-Chinese girl explains patiently. “Alya set up a page for the class because it’s the only site Nino would make an account on.”

“Ohhh. So you put up the status and the picture like you do on the others?”

“Exactly! Here, take a look with me.”

Tikki bounces mid-air excitedly. She rather enjoyed Instagram. “Okay Marinette!”

> **Nino Lahiffe**
> 
> bruh damn alix u rly gotta call me out like that
> 
> **_[bestbrothateverbrodbro.bro.mp3]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Alix Kubdel, Alya Césaire, Adrien Agreste** and **10 others** like this.

Tikki’s eyes widen a little at the profanity on the screen. It takes Marinette a few minutes to explain that _no, Nino wasn’t casting a curse on Alix,_ and _yes, the “d” word could be used to show affection_ before the little kwami lets her “like” the DJ’s post.

> **Juleka Couffaine**
> 
> Feeling cute, might delete later idk ;;;;
> 
> **_[wewouldallsimpforjuleka.ngl.wav]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Rose Lavillant, Mylène Haprèle,** **Alix Kubdel** and **11 others** like this.

“She’s very pretty,” Tikki comments, already double tapping the screen. “Both inside and out.”

The Ladybug duo continue perusing the class’s pictures and posts. Marinette likes all of them, only skipping Lila’s. She considered skipping over Chloé’s post too, but the blonde heiress had liked almost everyone’s posts, and ever since she became Queen Bee, she’s been slightly more tolerable. Slightly. _Slightly._ Marinette won’t admit it, but she _probably_ wouldn’t mind hanging out with the blonde.

Then Marinette sees Adrien’s selfie and her jaw drops.

The blond was on the floor beside his couch, a meat and cheese platter on the low table behind him. One hand held his phone in while the other dangled a thin piece of prosciutto near his lips. A charming, yet mischievous grin rests on Adrien’s face. However, none of these were the cause of Marinette’s distress—not the suggestive leg cross nor the knowing smirk.

> **Adrien Agreste**
> 
> nice to ‘meat’ you ~(=^‥^)/ 
> 
> **_[whyisthisboysodum.kms.ppt]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Sabrina Raincomprix** and **10 others** like this.

That was a pun and a cat kaomoji. Marinette’s eyes were just about to pop out of her head. Adrien— _perfect, handsome, kind, respectful_ —Agreste just used a pun and a cat kaomoji in the same sentence like a god damn alley cat and _oh my god Tikki remember what Chat said the other night—_

Luckily, a new introduction appears, distracting her from the dangerous thoughts of blondes, green eyes, and certain feline tendencies.

At the top of her newsfeed was one Sabrina Raincomprix. The ginger-haired girl rarely posted, and when she did, it was usually to promote something of Chloé’s. This time was different though. Sabrina had put up a picture of herself dressed up as Chat Noir. She looks happy. Marinette smiles, tapping her thumb on the heart icon.

> **Sabrina Raincomprix**
> 
> My new Chat Noir costume came in today!! The leather on the last one got damaged when I… fell into the pool. What do you guys think? :D
> 
> **_[lowkeyshecanbereallycute.uwu.jar]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Chloé Bourgeois, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Nino Lahiffe** and **10 others** like this.

Marinette studies the picture some more. It _was_ cute, yes, but there was something off about the new costume. The last one Sabrina had was a pretty close replica of Plagg’s power, but this one has too many inconsistencies. Quickly, she starts typing up a comment below the others in the post.

* * *

**Chloé:** CUUUUUUUTE!! ♡♡♡ you need to come over like right NOW!

 **Alya:** wicked costume, girl

 **Nathaniel:** Out of purely platonic curiosity, do they also make Ladybug costumes?

 **Adrien:** This suit doesn’t have the pockets Chat has and the ears are also supposed to be fully black. Also, the tail is supposed to have fifteen holes and yours looks like it only has 12.

 **Marinette:** cute, but the ears should be black, the belt tail needs toaldskjflsd

 **Adrien:** But overall it looks very nice.

**Marinette: …**

**Marinette:** wow, you type fast Adrien

 **Adrien:**!!!

 **Adrien:** Thanks, Marinette~♡

* * *

The teenaged girl wills her heart to calm down. It’s just a text heart. Not like he means anything by it. Right? _RIGHT?!_ Her breaths come in ever-shortening spurts and she has to put her phone down. Tikki, already having chalked up her wielder’s behavior as part of the Modern Mating Ritual™, pats her on the head.

* * *

**Alix:**.

 **Kim:** .

 **Max:**.

 **Rose:** lol

 **Chloé: @Sabrina** don’t come over until you have that utterly ridiculous suit fixed

 **Chloé:** Dupain-Cheng sews, right? I forgot.

 **Sabrina: @Marinette** you seem to know a lot about the material and Chat’s suit. Do you think you could make me a fully black cat ear headband and sew pockets into this one? And maybe do something about the tail?

 **Adrien:**?

**_This comment has been deleted by Lila Rossi._ **

**_This comment has been deleted by Juleka Couffaine._ **

* * *

A loud _ding!_ emanates from the mobile device when Sabrina tags Marinette. Torn, Marinette considers the other girl’s request, even as her eyes are drawn towards the mess that was her desk. It had never recovered from whenever she made armbands for the entire lacrosse team.

* * *

**Marinette:** I don’t know… maybe?

 **Marinette:** I kinda need to study for the finals coming up, and there’s a ton of personal projects I’ve been meaning to complete but haven’t gotten to yet.

 **Sabrina:** Finals? I can help you study for that! I already made Chloé a ton of study packets that are suuuper easy to read through. I can make them for you too.

 **Sabrina:** You don’t even have to open the books. All the material you could need is already in there!

 **Sabrina:** Please Marinette?

**_This comment has been deleted by Ivan Bruel._ **

**_This comment has been deleted by Mylène Haprèle._**

* * *

_Tempting…_ The bluenette taps her chin and then sighs, a small smile playing at her lips.

* * *

**Marinette:** Hm… maybe! Yeah, of course I’ll do it for you. It won’t take me long at all :D

 **Sabrina:** Okay! Let me give you my address so we can work on it together! :D

 **Sabrina:** One minute, someone is messaging me.

 **Sabrina: @Marinette** Never mind.

* * *

“Huh. Weird,” Marinette muses, but doesn’t dwell on it too much. Instead, now that the conversation with the orange-haired girl is over, she could focus on other things. Like posting her own selfie. And fully calming down from earlier because she still can’t get over that _stupid, cryptic heart._

> **Marinette Dupain-Cheng**
> 
> No costume, but it’s sew nice to see everyone here together! ♡
> 
> **_[yestikkitookthepicatanimpossibleangle.obvi.pdf]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑
> 
> **Adrien Agreste, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe** and **1 other** like this.

When Marinette next checks her phone, she’s surprised to see 9 Facegrammer notifications. Every single one was a direct message from a classmate—specifically Nathaniel, Max, Kim, Alix, Ivan, Mylene, Juleka, Rose, and Sabrina _—_ asking her to remove her “like” on their selfie posts. The bluenette’s brow furrows as she reads through them. She was getting a certain… _vibe_.

 _Fear? Apprehension?_ Marinette thinks. Tikki shrugs and doesn’t look at her when she asks for the kwami’s opinion.

_Ding!_

Her phone went off again, this time displaying a notification bubble reading: _2 new private messages from Adrien Agreste._

* * *

**Adrien:** So… I hear you’re a fan of super heroes.

 **Adrien:** Wanna chat about it? (=①ω①=)

* * *

She doesn’t respond immediately like she usually does. Instead, Marinette takes a moment to narrow her eyes slightly, the beginnings of an idea forming in her willfully oblivious mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? A semblance of plot? Hah?
> 
> By the way, Chloé was the 1 other person that liked Marinette's picture. I live for Decent!Chloé.


	11. Nino

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy marichat may, haha... ha...

His heart is pumping. His chest is screaming. His mind is spinning.

Chat Noir leapt over a low roof chimney and all but collapsed against the soot-stained side of it. “Claws In,” he gasped, still trying to catch his breath. Plagg phased out of the ring. He’s clearly exhausted from the akuma— _a particularly hard-hitting character that raged about someone throwing his precious pork pie hat into the Seine_ —but one look at his wielder has him flying over worriedly. As the suit-and-powers half of Chat Noir, Plagg wasn’t always entirely aware of what went on when Adrien was transformed.

“Hey kid, what’s the matter?” he manages to ask.

“Plagg… I can’t believe it. It’s horrible,” the blond mutters with an arm covering his eyes. He sounds genuinely upset and on the verge of hysteria. “I just… I never imagined that… he would betray me.”

Plagg feels his breath die in his throat. “Huh? Is it something to do with… Papillon?” The little kwami had had his suspicions about Gabriel Agreste being the purple supervillain, but nothing concrete so he had never told Adrien to spare the kid’s feelings. For those suspicions to be confirmed though… his heart breaks.

Adrien blinks at him.

“What? No, I’m talking about Nino. Did you see him walking Marinette home tonight after the akuma?”

Pause.

 _You’re probably wondering how I ended up here, exhausted, emotionally tested, and hungry with no one to feed me,_ Plagg thinks with a thousand-yard stare. _You’d think dropping 500 feet from the Eiffel Tower untransformed would clue this boy in, but nooooo… such is life for poor, poor Plagg._

He floats over to his wielder’s inner pocket for the camembert, letting the blond ramble.

“…I mean, I understand that they’ve known each other all of their lives and were friends for a really long time before Alya and I came around.” Adrien suddenly gasps, bringing his hands up to his face in a fairly good approximation of _The Scream._ “Do you think he’s _cheating_ _on Alya with Marinette?”_ he whisper-screams.

Someone—most likely the resident underneath the roof they’re camped out on—yells at Adrien to keep it down. Meanwhile, the kwami of destruction nods noncommittedly. He’s decided to focus on cheese. Cheese was constant. Cheese was sane.

“Oh yeah, sure. Why not.”

“No, that’s not right. They would never do that to Alya.”

“True, true.”

“It’s so tragic, Plagg. They don’t even _know_ what they’re doing!”

“Uh-huh. You got any more cheese?” Plagg asks, mouth full. With tears in his eyes, Adrien passes him the last of the camembert. “I need to help them. Come on, let’s talk to Nino!”

“Good idea—wait, no, bad idea, bad id—” But it’s too late, he’s being sucked back into the ring before he can finish the last bite.

“Plagg, Claws Out!”

-x-

When he accepted a little black box and the double-life of being one of Paris’s protectors, he never thought he’d have to go through _this._ When he offered to walk a lone Marinette home after ‘Hat Rack’ had been deakumatized, he didn’t expect _this._ To reiterate, one Nino Lahiffe _Did Not Ask For This_.

This: being stalked through the alleyways of Paris in the dead of the night by a certain cat-themed hero.

“Uh, you can come out now,” Nino says, his voice equal parts fear and exasperation.

He’s standing in a dead-end alleyway, figuring Chat Noir would prefer the privacy. Silence. No answer. The teenager sighs, turns around, and is instantly met with the sight of Chat Noir leaning casually on his baton, the only way out behind him. The blond wiggles his clawed fingers in greeting.

 _Did he always have claws that sharp?_ Nino thinks, sweat dropping. _Why… just why…_

“Oh, fancy seeing you here, Carapace~” Chat greets the untransformed teenager.

“Sup dude.” He waits patiently for the black cat hero to speak.

In retrospect, maybe he should have used the other’s Moment of Building Tension as an excuse to run.

“Carapace, I think we have a problem. Earlier, I saw you accompany a certain baker’s daughter home.” Chat Noir says this with a pout. Nino thinks he can hear the other boy muttering under his breath about how _he was gonna do that_ but quickly dismisses the thought.

“Marinette? I ran into her hiding behind some random park bench.”

“ _Uh-huh,”_ Chat Noir hums genially. “Let me get this straight: we do not use our super hero powers to pick up girls.”

“Rena and I _literally_ celebrated our anniversary yesterday! You and Ladybug saw us!”

“So? You liked Marinette first! You even asked her out to the zoo!”

“Dude, that was last year! _LAST_ year! I thought she was really nice and cute then—wait.” Only people who knew him as Nino knew that he asked the half-Chinese girl out on that disastrous date. Out of those people, only one person knew of his first crush, as well as had the same physical characteristics as Chat Noir. He looks at said hero incredulously. “Dude, _Adrien?_ Is that you? _”_

 _His best friend as a civilian was also his best friend as a hero._ Nino can hear Alya’s voice telling him _“I told you so!”_ and he sighs.

But Adrien waves him off, as if his identity reveal was the least of his worries. Hopelessly, Nino thinks that might actually be the case. “Wait, so you _don’t_ think that now?” the blond asks.

“Well, I mean, sure I do dude, but—”

“A-ha!” Chat Noir— _Adrien, oh god_ —announces, pointing accusingly at Nino. He’s grinning like the cat that got the cream. “So, you _do admit to having some subliminal agenda with Marinette, huh Ni-no?~ Ne, ne, tell your good friend Adrien all about them!~ We can help you get over it together!~”_

Nino loves the guy. He really does. Adrien has obviously been through Too Much and Deserves the World, but at times like these, Nino wishes that maybe he had stepped back in those pivotal moments of his life, if only to think about it some more. Not that Nino would change anything, but _knowing in advance his super hero best friend was a weird mix of nyandere, yandere, and deredere_ would have been nice.

“Sure dude, thanks for having my back,” he humors an overly cheery Chat Noir, because that’s what Best Friends do. They’re there for each other, even if one of them is a singing, cat-eared ball of obliviousness that has a bad case of projecting his feelings onto others.

But Nino still Did Not Ask For This.

-x-

“Hey… You’re not really replacing me with a turtle, are you?”

The question comes out of the blue, causing Marinette to stop setting up the little display of treats on her rooftop. She looks at him with confused eyes that quickly turn amused. Chat pouts and hides his face, but the glow of the surrounding tealights mean that there are no shadows to hide in. Not here, not in front of her.

“You saw Carapace, huh? Are you jealous?”

“What? _No,”_ Chat replies defensively. “I was just worried. I couldn’t find you where I left you when Hat Rack was running around, and next thing I see is the turtle walking you back, and did you know he’s dating Rena Rouge?”

Marinette raises an eyebrow at him.

He sighs, because he knows she _gets it_ , but she’s playing hard tonight. Unbidden, his lips curve a little. _Princess is really too cute when she’s like this._ “You’re my good friend, Marinette. I just wanted to know you were safe.”

She snorts, then beckons him closer with a crook of her finger. Marinette leans in close, closer, _closest,_ until her lips are teasing at the shell of his ear. “You know I won’t,” finally comes her answer. She pulls away, leaving him stunned. She had never done anything like that to him before and he tilts his head in silent askance.

“There was a hair,” Marinette says with an unreadable smile, twisting a little strand of brown in between her fingers. There’s a moment of tension then, as civilian and super hero stare each other down. Then she releases it to the wind, smiles brightly, and offers him a little cat-shaped confection. “Anyways, would you like a cookie now?”

Chat Noir nods eagerly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can feel this story getting more serious. This is less than ideal. ¬_¬


	12. Chloé

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very Serious Lore incoming.

It’s Friday night and one Chloé Bourgeois is running late for her— _very platonic, shut up Sabrina—_ date with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Why was she willingly going to eat a sushi dinner with her greatest frenemy, you may ask?

Well, it’s obvious.

Ladybug had been on her case about being nicer, more selfless towards others. Chloé was trying, really, but all of her classmates were dumb losers like Kim, uptight social justice warriors like Alya, or Lila. No explanation needed for the last one. Other than Adrien and Sabrina, Marinette was the only person the blonde could bring herself to _maybe_ like for her leadership and creativity.

Sabrina hated raw fish. Adrien was busy with some photoshoot.

Therefore, if Chloé wanted to get noticed by— _ahem, I mean, impress—_ Ladybug, she had to make Marinette happy.

That’s it. That’s the reason.

In either case, it’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous, that so many things could go wrong right before her sushi date:

> All of her powders and blushes have been replaced with grey dust— _she thinks it’s soot but isn’t 100% sure_.
> 
> Her closet has been cleared of every bit of clothing. When she complains over the phone to the hotel staff, they sound utterly terrified— _but Chloé thinks they weren’t as scared as they should be, given that someone was singing happily in the background_.
> 
> Her signature sunglasses were missing, replaced by a black cat-themed pair that even had _ears on top who even made these?—_
> 
> The temperature was stuck at a cooler-than-normal 67.71 degrees Fahrenheit, making the warm-blooded girl— _ha-ha, very funny, alley cat—_ cold on top of being irritable.
> 
> The elevator got stuck on floor 77, forcing her to be princess-carried down the many flights of stairs.

Miraculously, the hotel heiress manages to get dressed and ready. Butler Jean fast-walks next to her, spritzing her form with expensive perfume and opening all the doors. She’s just pulling out her phone to text her driver when she steps outside to a bright, sunny day.

Except it’s 7:07 pm. And it rained earlier.

Chloé blinks and nope—it’s just a certain blond in his usual outfit, standing alone on the wet sidewalk. Adrien flashes them another million-watt smile. She smirks and crosses her arms.

“Hello Chloé. I was wondering if we could speak together about a… mutual friend of ours,” he says smoothly, with all the grace and intent of a wild cat eyeing its prey.

“Jean, leave us,” she commands, holding that gaze smugly.

Butler Jean is all too happy to obey, leaving the two blondes in the rich white kid version of a Mexican standoff. Instead of a seedy alleyway or abandoned warehouse, they have the doorstep of the luxury hotel Le Grand Paris. In place of guns, they have the honeyed threats and barbed smiles of politicians and CEOs. In lieu of their lives on the line, they have their sanities. Neither teenager plans to lose.

“Chloé~”

“Adrikins~”

Two shots fired. She used a grating pet name, but he weaponized his demonic cuteness. It’s a stalemate.

“So… you have a date with our friend Marinette?” he asks, jade eyes wide with faux innocence. “Would it happen to be a 7 o’clock reservation at Kura? Because you’re already so late! Maybe you should skip~”

It’s a solid blow. Chloé’s right eye twitches as the shadow over Adrien’s face intensifies. The teenaged girl has to take a few moments to recover her mental strength. She wouldn’t let him win. This was for Ladybug!

“You mean the date I set up…” Chloé pauses, then points a finger at him dramatically. “…for you? So wouldn’t you be the late one?”

It’s super effective! The boy stumbles back, shocked. Lightning thunders in the background.

_“Wh-what?”_

“ _Ahahaha!_ That’s right, Adrikins, I asked Marinette out on your behalf. God, she was so pathetically happy,” she gloats. “I know everything you did to our class so I knew you would pull something like this. Trying to ward me from _Marinette,_ pffft!”

Chloé isn’t blind. She sees the looks her classmates give the model—equal parts admiration and fear—and knows what it means. She just doesn’t care… until now.

“But… but how…” he mutters, dumbfounded and on his knees.

“You, on the other hand, know nothing, Adrien Agreste,” Chloé says pityingly. She crouches down and cups the other’s face like a mother would a clueless child. “That fashion disaster Nino may be your best friend, but I’m your childhood friend for a reason.”

_Which in her opinion was the same as best friend, but who’s keeping track? Not her._

Adrien’s eyes widen in true innocence this time. “What do you mean by that, Chloé?”

“I mean that I wouldn’t be friends with someone so plain and boring,” she replies, blue eyes rolling. She pulls him up before the disgusting rain could seep into his designer jeans. “Adrien. Do you remember when we first met? Our parents, their mutual friends, and their children all gathered here for my daddy’s birthday. You almost ran me over with a loaded luggage cart because you thought I was trying ‘steal your mom’ or something.”

“Huh. Did I do that?” Adrien vaguely recalls that.

“Yes, Adrikins.”

“Then how are we friends?”

“Because after Mrs. Agreste told you I was your friend, you scared off all the other kids from getting near us. Almost spoiled me for anyone else, really.”

Chloé sighs dreamily, envisioning the horrified and disturbed looks they had gotten as she stood behind an innocently smiling, hooded-eye Adrien. It was nice, addicting really, to have that level of attention. To feel _wanted._ Her ocean blue eyes lift once more to the other blond. Chloé would do anything she could to repay that feeling…

…and if Ladybug got wind of this Totally Selfless act she did for Adrien _and_ Marinette and saw fit to let Chloé keep the Bee Miraculous more often, or even permanently? It would be a coincidence, that’s all _—that’s all! Don’t be ridiculous, Pollen. I didn’t miss you or anything._

“Now, if you want the reservation number with Dupain-Cheng, tell me where you hid all my stuff.”

Adrien stares at her for a long while, like he couldn’t believe it. Then he grins sheepishly.

“…your makeup is taped to the underside of your bed. Your clothes are untouched, and behind the picture of an empty closet at the doorframe. I have your sunglasses,” he offers in lieu of an apology. He passes her the white-rimmed shades. “Who even wears sunglasses at night?”

“They’re prescription, Adrikins,” Chloé scoffs, feeling more like herself. “Are you going to tell me how you managed all that? Especially the elevator getting stuck.”

“Nope~” Adrien sings-songs like the brat he is. “And what elevator?~”

Chloé childishly sticks out her tongue to mirror him but drops it. She’s learned from her daddy that sometimes it’s better not to question things, especially dangerous things. Right now, the model was emanating a Dangerous Aura.

“Though… thanks Chloé. Really.”

The aura dissipates and the blonde girl rolls her eyes. “Whatever. You could do so much worse, like _Rossi_. Ugh.” They both shudder. “If Marinette Dupain-Cheng is the one you love, I will support you. Now get out of here already. The reservation is actually for 7:30, so you’ll make it in time if you leave now.”

She shoos Adrien in the direction of the sushi restaurant. He makes to leave, but then glances over his shoulder for one last parting shot.

“Thanks again, but you do know I’m not in love with Marinette? She’s just a good friend.”

It’s a critical hit!

There was only so much Chloé could take of her friend’s thick skull. At that last statement, the heiress’s smile turns a little more strained, her easy blinks a little stiffer. There was a reason why she said that he had _almost_ spoiled her.

“Oh Adrikins… you’re so pretty,” she murmurs before leaving his side to soak in her hot tub. She needs more than a few moments to recuperate from that one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dumb number jokes:  
> 67.71 = 6771 = chat code for "good friend"  
> 77 = chat code for "friends forever"  
> 7:07 = 707 = lol
> 
> You guys ever just start writing something... then see one picture of the character you love, then another, then another, and suddenly 4 hours are gone? Because that's why I haven't posted in a while. Or consistently. Hoho. (✿´‿`)


	13. Alya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (´･ω･`)? Why is this so long compared to the others, you may ask? 
> 
> (ﾟωﾟ；) idk mang, this is literally the 2nd shortest version i had written out of _f i v e_

Alya Césaire knew Something Was Up with Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Or, rather, she knew there was something fishy going on when nearly the entire class refused to look, speak to, or talk about the half-Chinese girl. Alya didn’t sense any malicious intent, but that didn’t change the fact that her friend was being mistreated.

Marinette was starting to look a little down, like a flower that’s been withheld water.

That was what prompted Alya to take drastic measures: contacting the mysterious ‘President’ contact on her phone. She takes the time to text with proper grammar as befit her superior.

 **Alya:** President.

 **President:** Vice President. I thought I told you to only contact me if it is a serious emergency.

 **Alya:** This IS serious. It’s about Marinette.

 **President:** …go on.

Encouraged, Alya details her concerns for her friend, as well as her suspicions as to who the culprit was behind Marinette’s ostracization.

 **President:** That’s a VERY serious allegation. Are you sure?

 **Alya:** It has to be one of us.

 **President:** Then I will contact all our members to meet in the Le Grand Paris’s ballroom this afternoon—the one Chloé held a party in. Together we will get to the bottom of this.

 **Alya:** Thank you, President.

 **President:** No, thank you, Vice President. The Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fan Club is lucky to have you.

-x-

Yes, a Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fan Club exists.

(As a matter of fact, there were two at some point, but the other club was so utterly defeated and erased from history that no one can remember who was in it, much less the name of it.)

The club is about 2 years old. It was founded at the beginning of the girl’s first year of lycée by the President. Soon after, Alya was recruited as the Vice President, followed shortly by the rank-and-file members of Nino, Ivan, Mylène, and so on and so forth. Alya wasn’t exactly sure who was in the club right now, since only the President had a complete list. The best kept secrets were ones that are never shared, or at least that was what the President had told her, and they had to protect the club’s existence from Marinette.

Thus, it was quite a shock for Alya when she saw just how many people are part of the Fan Club. There were students, parents, civil workers, children, and animals present, and all of them had the club’s signature cherry blossom button pinned or attached somewhere on their person. She and the President had their work cut out for them.

Her phone buzzes. When Alya checks it, she only sees one message from the President.

 **President:** Sorry, but I’ll be late. Start the investigation without me.

She had her work cut out for her.

-x-

She starts with someone easy.

“Marinette is an extraordinary girl. I’m glad this fan club is so big. She deserves all the support,” Luka Couffaine tells her with a soft smile. Alya finds herself relaxing into his calm aura, and even smiles in return when the boy places a hand over his heart, obviously about to launch into a thirty-minute love confession. Alya Did Not Mind. “I remember when I first met her, I didn’t _see_ her so much as I _heard—”_

“ _BLIMEY_ , ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT MARINETTE?” Jagged Stone interrupted with a voice loud enough to carry to his home country. Fang followed at his heels with a large, toothy grin. “YOU GOTTA—YOU GOTTA TAKE A LOOK A’ THESE _AMAZING_ SUNGLASSES SHE MADE ME!” He’s holding a banana.

This is the fifth time today that the rock star has told the story. Luka keeps smiling calmly.

When Alya manages to get away before the sixth retelling, she removes both guitarists from her suspicions list. Luka was too accommodating to be the culprit, and Jagged was just… yeah. He had other issues.

-x-

“Hi Ms. Bustier, Ms. Mendeleiev, Mr. Damocles, Mr. D’Argencourt,” Alya greets politely. She also says hello to the Unnamed Art Teacher. “I was wondering if I could have your opinions on Marinette? Seeing as we’re all gathered here as part of her fan club…”

“Oh, Marinette is such a lovely student,” Caline Bustier gushes. “Well, other than being late all the time… and running out of the classroom every time we have an akuma… but she really helps my class’s image!”

Ms. Mendeleiev harrumphs. “She did very well on the chemistry exam a few weeks ago. It’s rare to see improvement like that,” she tells Alya. To herself, quite loudly: “I wonder if she’ll switch classes next year. I could use the GPA boost…”

“She displayed a most impressive technique at the fencing tryouts,” Armand D’Argencourt sniffs, “and her win rate against non-Adriens is near 100%. I _will_ have her on my team!”

The school principal grins boisterously. “As you can tell, Marinette is a shining example at Francois Dupont,” he says earnestly. “Yes, her character is really the best and I would never doubt her to the point of expulsion with no proof. Never.”

Unnamed Art Teacher casts all of his coworkers an unimpressed look.

Alya silently crosses out all of their names.

-x-

“Marinette and I are good friends,” Kagami Tsurugi says flatly. “When you find the one who is making her sad, tell me and I will help you end them, provided they are also not my friend.”

She smiles—or at least Alya thinks she does—stiffly, her lips pulled unnaturally thin and wide over bared teeth. The blogger tries to return it, but she’s pretty sure she ends up grimacing. The Japanese girl seems pleased though.

Her mother, Tomoe Tsurugi, does not smile or greet Alya, but the button on her white shirt is more than telling.

Neither seem suspicious at all, and both Tsurugi women are safely cleared.

-x-

“Hi Tom. Hi Sabine,” Alya says sweetly.

_Marinette’s parents have the most direct power over her. It’s possible one or both of them might care too much about their daughter’s social life to mess it up._

“Hello Vice President. Lovely event you’ve set up,” Sabine replies just as cheerily.

Meanwhile, her husband is setting down a massive, four-tier pink-frosted cake covered in plump strawberries and delicate fondant cherry blossoms. The table creaks a bit at the weight. The Martinique French girl lets out a low whistle. It must have been expensive. She mentally places the spoiled blonde higher on the list of possible suspects.

“Nice Marinette-themed cake. Did Chloé order it?”

“No. It was the President, of course!” Tom replies. “Though I wish whoever they are gave us more notice before today. 520 flowers and 477 strawberry slices for one cake… whew…”

“And you did an excellent job, dear,” Sabine assures him.

“Oh, you,” the heavyset baker coos, much to his wife’s delight. He scoops the tiny woman into his arms and nuzzles her neck affectionately.

“Oh, dear, not here— _ah~”_

Tom and Sabine were too focused on the love they had for each other to have the manic obsession needed for Marinette’s ostracization. Alya hastily bids them goodbye—she’s not sure if they heard her, and she doesn’t want to check—and removes them from the list.

-x-

Miss Bustier’s class—sans three important people—were huddled around the whiteboard arguing. They seemed to be playing a weird alliteration word game. At the top of the board was the word ‘ELEVEN’ written in bold red. Below it was a list of words like “exacerbated,” “exposed,” and “eleven,” all of which were struck through with red marker. Alya watched as a certain blonde heiress scribbles out “effrayé” entirely, much to the consternation of one Lila Rossi.

“I’m just _saying_ ,” Chloé huffs at Lila, “if you’re going to use _effrayé_ then you should use _onze_ too. Oh wait, you _can’t_ because they don’t start with the same letter!”

The Italian girl crosses her arms and scowls. She retorts, “Well I don’t see you coming up with anything. Besides, if you just admit that you’re part of the club, we could skip Eleven and go straight to Twelve!”

 _I’ve never seen Lila so catty. She’s normally so sweet,_ Alya thinks skeptically. _Perhaps Lila was the culprit after all—maybe out of some weird infatuation with Marinette!_

“Ridiculous! As if I would be scared enough of _Ad_ —scared enough to want to be associated with any of you!”

“You can’t even say his name!" 

“Hey guys.” Alya cuts in to defuse the situation. “Just wanted to welcome you all to our first ever meeting. As your Vice President, I will do my best to uphold my promise to keep Marinette happy. We _will_ find the culprit.”

They stare at her for a while.

“…wait. Babe. So you’re _not_ the President?” Nino asks, face turning noticeably paler. “But aren’t you Marinette’s best friend?”

Alya crosses her arms defensively. Her only being second in the Fan Club hierarchy didn’t sit well with her either, but she didn’t make the rules. “Well—yeah I am, but no. I didn’t make the club.”

The teenaged girl stares down her classmates, daring them to comment further. In that silence, Markov—his facial expression now set to ( ╹ ◡ ╹;;;)—quietly wipes the whiteboard clean and writes ‘TWELVE’ at the top. It seems a new round of the word game has begun.

“Tense,” Mylène says finally.

“Terror-stricken,” suggests Sabrina.

“Tortured,” Nathaniel mutters faintly.

Another silence follows before the 12 classmates murmur amongst themselves in approval.

“Oh, that’s good, I like that.”

“Yes, yes.”

“Agreed.”

They were back to ignoring Alya. None of them showed any interest in her search, not even when Marinette was mentioned. With a sigh, she makes a note clearing them all.

-x-

From Nadja Chamack to Mireille Caquet, from Audrey Bourgeois to her own sister Ella Césaire, not a single person set off alarm bells in her mind. She just couldn’t believe that any of these people were capable, or had a strong enough motive, to want to separate Marinette from anyone else.

Defeated, Alya slumps over on the steps of the ballroom’s podium.

She’s about to throw in the towel, maybe resign from her Vice Presidency for her failure in her investigations, when she realized something.

Someone wasn’t here.

That someone was a student in Miss Bustier’s classroom, the only one absent aside from Marinette. That someone is very close to Marinette, is at least at ‘Friend’ status with her, and should by all logic be _here_ as a _member_. That someone had a plausible motive that likely stemmed from a deprived childhood and strong fear of losing loved ones.

“Hey,” Alya asks the general vicinity. Several heads turn in her direction. “Has anyone seen Adrien?"

Suddenly, the room is plunged into total darkness. When the lights come back on, Alya notices three things:

The first: all of her fellow classmates’ faces have turned paper white.

The second: behind her hangs a flashy neon sign that reads “Founder and President of the Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fan Club,” with an arrow pointing directly down to a modest throne.

The third: Sunshine Boy, Paris’s Teen Model of the Year, second best fencer of Collège Françoise Dupont, Best Bro™ of Nino Lahiffe, fashion disaster Adrien Agreste was sitting underneath said sign.

“As the founder and president of the Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fan Club, it is my pleasure to welcome all members to our first ever meeting,” he says in a voice as sweet as Breton soft caramel that’s been coated with honey and dusted with powdered sugar. “I do wish we met under better circumstances, but it is what it is. Vice President Alya, may I see your notes?”

“Adrien—”

Alya begins to speak, but the blond holds up a hand to silence her. Normally she would fight back, but the blond demon had defeated far too many before her and had grown in power. She falls quiet immediately, utterly compelled by the look in his eyes. Adrien smiles at her appreciatively before leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. With a small, half-smile partially hidden behind clasped hands, he addresses the captivated room in an entirely-too-innocent voice.

“Notes are overrated. So? Which one of you is it? Who is monopolizing our _good friend’s time?_ ” He rounds to Marc Anciel. “Is it you, Marc?”

“N-no,” he stammers out. Then, because he’s written enough crack fanfiction to know where this is going, blurts out, “I like guys!”

Adrien blinks. “Oh. Okay then. Well is it _you?”_ He turns to another random person.

“Scawy Kitty,” baby August whimpers.

Someone has been taking up Marinette’s time, up to the point that no one else could. Someone has been fielding any attempts to spend time to the half-Chinese girl. Someone has been removing all competition for her attention. That someone was a member of the Fan Club—no, he was the _President_ of the _Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fan Club_ and his name was Adrien Agreste and—

“If no one confesses, I’m going to have to question you all _one~ by~ one!~_ Oh, except for you two, Tom and Sabine.” He sends them a perfect model smile. “You’ve raised Marinette very well.”

_M-mutual… the feeling is mutual._

That’s all Alya can think before her legs give out. Hazel eyes unblinking, she stares at the blond as he sing-songs about the Integrity of Marinette’s Friendship, the Importance of her Happiness, and the Necessary Persecution of Timewasters.

_At this rate, it would take at least four seasons for Adrien to realize his own feelings._

Despair. Hopelessness.

The double doors burst open then, cutting off Adrien and revealing a breathless Marinette. “Is everyone here all right?” she demands, bluebell eyes scanning the room. “There was an akuma hovering just outside the window. Luckily, I— _just happened_ to see Ladybug de-evilize it! Yeah…”

Marinette trails off, blinking confusedly at the odd gathering before her, the large pink cake in the corner, and the cherry blossom buttons everyone except Adrien was sporting.

“Is this some kind of… flower appreciation club?” she asks hesitantly.

Adrien kicks the glowing sign off the podium. It crashes behind him with a loud clatter and shower of sparks. “Yup,” he replies, stepping down with a hand towards the navy-haired girl. “Let me tell you all about it. Pleasedon’ttalktoanyone.”

“What was that?” Marinette questions, accepting the hand.

“Don’t worry about it~”

For the first time in her life, Alya wishes she had been akumatized. At least then, Ladybug and Chat Noir would be here to save her from her two oblivious friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 520 = Chinese number code that means "wo ai ni", or "I love you"  
> 477 = simple English number code that means "best friends forever"
> 
> special thanks to the people on the miraculous ladybug fanfiction discord that gave me words to work with "eleven"  
> special thanks to my dummy brain that forgot i already had 12 victims up (NOT 11) and had to finesse what i'd already written.
> 
> why does "flower appreciation club" sound so dirty


	14. Marinette Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little more _serious,_ I guess. Part 1 of 2. Added a new chapter to compensate for my lack of typing restraint~

_Clink. Clink._

Head on her chin, Marinette Dupain-Cheng picks at her food listlessly. Adrien watches as her fork slides a potato wedge back and forth. After the fourth repetition, she lets out a sigh and it breaks his heart.

“What’s the matter, Marinette?” he asks cautiously. “Did I do something wrong?”

The half-Chinese girl fixes her gaze upon him, and a chill runs up the blond’s back because she looks like she _knows_. Then she smiles. “No, Adrien,” Marinette responds, still pushing around her food. “I guess I’m just a little lonely. I mean, I understand that everyone has their own projects to do—it’s the end of the semester—but do they really have to be so…” She gestures around them.

They’re sitting together in the school cafeteria. The center table is large enough to seat the entirety of Ms. Bustier’s class if they were creative with seating arrangements, but oddly enough, it really is just Marinette and Adrien. The rest of their classmates—and the whole school, for that matter—are seated at tables as far away as possible from the duo.

Most of them had their backs resolutely turned to Marinette and Adrien. Every so often though, a poor, unfortunate soul would sneak a look, only to be met with the terrifying visage of a boy in Very Platonic love.

Adrien thought it was nice and peaceful. Evidently, Marinette disagreed. He wanted to wipe that unhappiness from her whole being.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Who even needs them, right?” he says gamely.

She just looks at him. Something like anger flashes in her blue eyes, but it’s quickly drowned out by a resigned sort of fondness. Adrien doesn’t know which is worse.

“Look, how about I take you out tomorrow night?” the blond tries again. He’d ask her for tonight, but he’s already booked with Ladybug for a patrol. “We could just walk around the Trocadéro, get some ice cream from Andre's, or do whatever you want.”

She bites her lip thoughtfully. Meanwhile, Adrien beams sunshine at a too-curious Aurore Beauréal.

“As friends?”

“ _Best_ friends,” Adrien corrects her. He reaches out and covers her left hand with his right. “You know I care for you, right?”

She smiles again and nods, but that sadness still doesn’t completely go away.

No worries. He’d take care of that later. For now, Adrien pulls back, interlocks his fingers, and rests his chin upon them. A content smile creeps up as he stares at the navy-haired girl. Right now, there was no one else that could come between them, no one to bother, harass, or guilt Marinette into spending time with them. It was just him.

Just Adrien.

“Ok,” she says.

-x-

It’s nighttime that very same day.

A freshly transformed Chat Noir was just preparing to sneak out for patrol with Ladybug when a time portal materialized in the middle of his room. Out of that vertical white portal sprang an anxious-looking Bunnyx.

“Kitty Noir!” Bunnyx exclaims, grabbing his wrist. “There’s been a disturbance in the timeline! You need to come with me!”

“H-hey!”

The superheroine practically dislocates his arm as she drags him into the Burrow. It’s only when the portal to the outside world closes that Bunnyx releases him, the blond pouting and rubbing his sore shoulder. Before he can whine at her—he has Very Important Business to take care of, after all—she rounds upon him.

“Adrien! Have you been doing, or have done anything to mess with the timeline? Maybe seen something strange? Done something weird?” she demands.

Adrien thinks long and hard.

_A-ha!_

With utmost gravitas, he details how this morning, Marinette had opted for lemon and sugar crepes instead of her usual strawberries and chocolate, and during the day, she had blinked about 14.3 times per minute instead of her usual 17.

“Could any of those be it?” he asks the redhead worriedly. A shadow falls over his eyes as he thinks about that dastardly look on that dastard that sold the crepes when he gave Marinette that dastardly smile. Without waiting for an answer, he mutters to himself, “I _knew_ that crepe vendor put something nasty in those lemons! Maybe I should pay him a visit?~”

Bunnyx, meanwhile, recovers from her own shock. “Oh god, I had forgotten how bad you were,” she says faintly.

“Hm? Ne, Bunnyx, could you repeat that for me?” questions Chat Noir, eyes wide and voice loaded with honeyed threats.

It sends shivers down Bunnyx’s spine. “It’s nothing. Let’s move on. Maybe I should just show you what’s wrong and we’ll figure out the cause.”

“That would be best~”

Half-cringing, half-sighing about not getting paid enough for this, the white-and-blue heroine scans the Burrow until she finds the appropriate time portal. Chat Noir peeks over her shoulder as she adjusts the grainy image until it is clearer. What he saw made an eyebrow rise.

It’s Paris, but… not.

The city was desolate, streets completely devoid of the hustle and bustle of the world’s fashion capital. Every shop was closed, every landmark was locked. Curtains were drawn and doors were locked. There was no one, save for a lone red figure perched atop the Eiffel Tower.

He recognizes it as himself, or rather, a future version of himself. Future Mister Bug stares out over Paris grimly. As Adrien watches, two new heroes leap to his side. One of them is a short, but friendly-looking mouse-themed heroine and the other is a stocky, stern-looking ox-themed hero. Adrien doesn’t recognize either of them.

_But Marinette is Multimouse, so who is this new heroine?_

A loud roar rumbles off in the distance. Immediately, the three heroes leap in the direction of the roar to put down the akuma.

“Where’s Marinette and Ladybug?” he asks Bunnyx worriedly as the battle rages on. “And what about everyone else? Why is Paris so empty?”

“Everyone is hiding, and they’re scared of something. Marinette renounced the Mouse Miraculous and Ladybug gave it to someone trustworthy. As for Ladybug… she’s now also in hiding,” she replies. Bunnyx levels him with another stare. “Now Adrien, do you know of anything that would bring this about?”

She asks like she already knows the answer. It’s not hard to read her. After all, Alix Kubdel was one of his unfortunate victims. Adrien avoids her gaze, thinking back to the other frightened faces he’d brought about recently. An unpleasant feeling settles in the blond’s stomach, but he frowns, fighting against it.

“No idea,” he hedged.

 _It was all for a good cause!_ Adrien thinks vehemently. _They were bothering Marinette, and I’m just helping her out because that’s what Good Friends_ do _, and…_

Bunnyx’s lips part in surprise. “You _do_ know,” she murmurs.

“No, I don’t. What about Marinette? Is she okay?” he demands instead.

“She is, yes.”

Adrien could tell she was telling the truth, but there was definitely something Bunnyx wasn’t telling him.

“ _Show. Me,”_ the blond growls. This wasn’t some minor inconvenience like being late to a study date or making armbands for a bunch of strangers. This was serious.

With some hesitation, Bunnyx nodded towards a nearby time portal. Adrien all but pushes her out of the way in his worry for his friend. Slowly, the grainy image comes into focus.

It’s Marinette in the future. Alone in a quiet room, she’s sitting calmly on a white leather couch. At first glance, nothing seems to be wrong, but the more Adrien looks, the more he finds that something is not quite right.

Not much has changed, but the differences are glaring.

Her hair is still that same luscious shade of blue, only now it’s pulled up into a severe side ponytail. Marinette was still as petite as ever, though her fashion style has shifted from the playful blacks, pinks, and flower motifs to a stiff grey pantsuit. It takes Adrien few moments to place why she looks familiar, but when it hits him, he wants to throw up.

And her _eyes_.

Her blank gaze doesn’t waver from the equally blank wall. Marinette’s eyes—eyes that were normally so expressive and turbulent and free like the oceans she was named for—are the worst part. Those ocean blue orbs looked as alive as this author’s respect for Thomas Astruc after reading just one of his tweets about Chloé post-Miracle Queen.

In other words: dead.

Unconsciously, Adrien takes a step back from the rabbit hole only to bump into Bunnyx. In response, she crosses her arms and gives him a stern look to continue watching. Trembling slightly, the blond obeys just in time to see a new character appear in the drab apartment.

It’s him, though he can only see his future self from behind. Future Adrien looks like he’s come back from a long day at some boring formal job, his clothes a deep black, but no less dead than Future Marinette’s outfit.

 _Thump!_ She does not react when the older version of Adrien loudly drops his briefcase.

“Adrien, my good friend, my only friend,” Marionette-Marinette intones, her voice heartbreakingly absent of any emotion. “Welcome home.”

The image shuts off. For a moment, the two heroes stand in silence.

“Adrien—"

“That’s _not_ Marinette. She would _never_ turn into _that,”_ Adrien bites out. His hands curl into tight fists. He can feel red crescent moons forming in his palms, but he’s too confused, furious, and _scared_ to care. “And Paris wouldn’t either. Ladybug wouldn’t allow it. _I_ wouldn’t allow it!”

“But she _does!_ ” Bunnyx insists. She gestures wildly about them. “Something will happen or has happened recently that will make all of this come true! And, like it or not, Adrien, it’s all connected to you, so just help me!”

“No. Plagg, Claws In.”

Plagg zips out from the ring and takes one look at his holder’s face—Very Scary, but also Very Concerned, _don’t worry about it, Plagg, please don’t look at me like that—_ before phasing into the boy’s inner pocket.

The redhead is dumbfounded. “Kitty Noir—what do you think you’re doing?”

“Something must have gone wrong with your Miraculous,” Adrien tells her, his voice an unsettling mix of saccharine charm and desperate hysteria, “because as far as I know, nothing I have done could be connected with that future! Everything I’ve done has been to protect Marinette, and there’s absolutely no way I’d let that happen to her! You should go check other possibilities in the timeline, yeah?” He stuffs his hands in his pockets to hide the fact that they’re shaking.

Bunnyx stares at him. Then, she nods and the world around them morphs back into Adrien’s bedroom. The teenaged boy sits back in his computer chair, mind already immersed with ways to isolate— _I mean protect—_ Marinette from any and all dangers. Try as he might, he couldn’t get that image of a lifeless Marinette out of his head.

_I can’t let that happen. She’ll stay right where she is, happy and healthy and with me._

In fact, he’d take extra precautions now to prevent such a horrible future. He’d take out anyone who so much as _breathed_ wrong in his friend’s direction, as well as anyone else who got in his way. And maybe even the ones who didn’t even do anything.

_I can’t be too careful. I have to—I have to do this, even if she hates me, because even if she does, that’ll be better than if she were lifeless or gone, or—_

“Adrien.”

Narrowed jade green eyes meet sapphire blue.

“You should know,” Bunnyx tells him, one foot already back in the Burrow, “even Papillon had the best intentions. I know you think you’re protecting Marinette, but...”

Adrien flashes her his brightest smile, trying to keep the mania out of his voice but failing miserably.

“Thank you for your concern, but I’ve got it from here!~ No one will ever get close enough to my friend to _t_ _ake! Her! Away!~_ ”

“Just… think about it. I know you’ll make the right decision.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me to myself: pls don't go off into the angsty deep end, you know you can't stop rambling once you get going  
> Also me: liberal usage of italics. liberal usage of "and". liberal usage of parallelism.  
> Me to myself: why
> 
> (um, don't worry, it's still a happy fun crack fic I promise. already have the next part mostly typed up lol)


	15. Marinette Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part 2/2. also 2k words. gosh darn. 
> 
> but! thanks to everyone that's followed and read up to this point. (♥ω♥*)

Ladybug was taking up Marinette’s time.

Still shaken up from Bunnyx’s visit, Adrien had swung by the Dupain-Cheng bakery, wanting to see Marinette to reaffirm that she’s okay, she’s safe. Instead, he had seen the spotted heroine exiting from the girl’s bedroom. Everything after—meeting up with Ladybug, the patrol, how he felt—was a blur.

At this point, Adrien has an established set of procedures.

Following protocol, he has gotten Ladybug alone and away from any potential witnesses. Also according to procedure, he has a suitable prop (his baton-phone’s photo album, filled with many candid pictures of Marinette to prove that he is the ultimate friend) as well as a backup (a banana, just in case he needs to split). Now all that’s left is to talk to Ladybug in a mildly-threatening, but overly-affectionate way to ensure she would never even _think_ of getting near Marinette again.

You know, for platonic friendship reasons.

On the secluded rooftop he’s chosen, Ladybug stands ahead of him. She’s not facing Adrien, so she can’t see his hands shake around the baton, or the nervous flitting of his eyes between her and the Dupain-Cheng bakery in the distance.

This is it, the disturbance in the timeline Bunnyx had mentioned.

He knows this is it.

Everyone knows this is it.

After Ladybug, there would be no one left that could challenge him.

He loves Ladybug, but he also lo— _Marinette was his friend_ , one that he had sworn to protect. It’s a hard choice, and it feels like he doesn’t even have one. If he wants to prevent that terrible future and save Marinette, he has to do this.

So why does he feel so torn?

Adrien asks himself this, but deep down, he already knows the answer. Bunnyx’s final words echo in his head. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to combat it, summoning the familiar, negative swirl of jealousy, possessiveness, and fear. With great difficulty, he pushes the older woman’s voice to the dark recesses of his mind.

Because he’s Adrien, Good Friend. He’s had to— _still has to, will have to—_ lie, cheat, steal, threaten, and do every shady thing under the sun just to keep her in his life.

“Milady.”

“Yes, Kitty?” she replies, and he doesn’t notice how she’s also shaking.

Then he opens his eyes, sees her staring back, and stills.

Ladybug was so, so good. She was one of Adrien’s first friends, and the closest, yet he had never felt the urge to protect her like he did with Marinette because he just knew Ladybug would always be there, Miraculous or not. She was brave, kind, compassionate, beautiful on the outside and the inside, and Adrien would trust her with anything, anyone.

Even with Marinette.

_…what am I doing?_

The realization struck him. All of his schemes, all of his plans to ward people off, all to keep Marinette _happy_ and _safe_ —he’d been accomplishing anything but. He thinks back to the dimmed look in the half-Chinese girl’s eyes this afternoon, compares it to the future Marinette he saw in the Burrow.

_Could it be… I was wrong? Am I actually bringing her pain?_

The baton slips from Adrien’s hold, clattering down and off the roof. Shame floods his very being, and he wants to drown in it, but he can’t because it’s just a figure of speech. He settles for hanging his head, unable to even look at his lady when he is so unworthy.

“Ladybug, I can’t do this to you. I’m sorry… I think I messed up.” he mutters quietly. “With Marinette… and everyone else…”

Silence. Then…

 _“You think?”_ Ladybug grits out.

Cue the boss battle music.

She stands above him on the ridge of the roof, legs braced and arms crossed imperiously. Her eyes are blazing with a fury normally reserved for Papillon or Lila Rossi. Behind the red heroine, the glowing lights of Paris burn brightly to give the impression of a dark, but holy angel sent down to smite the wicked.

‘The wicked’ gulps.

“You _think_ you messed up, huh?” Ladybug continues, glaring at him like he just told her she had to eat a burrito with a fork. “Did you _think_ this when you threatened Nathaniel to the point of him becoming a Chat Noir stan? Or when Max and Markov decided to start an anti-gaming-addiction campaign at school? Or when Kim accidentally beat the school record for holding his breath underwater at the pool hangout? How about when Lila had a seizure every time someone mentioned ‘tea’?”

“That last one was actually warranted. You should have seen some of the photos she had of Marinette. I was mainly talking about people like Kim and Sabrina,” Chat mumbles under his breath. He pauses, something not quite adding up. “Wait, how do you know about all that? I didn’t even tell you what I did.”

Ladybug narrows her eyes at him. “Tikki, Spots Off.”

There is a flash of white and pink, and then there, in front of him, stands one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“No need, I figured you out, _Adrien Agreste.”_

 _Ladybug is Marinette. Marinette is Ladybug._ Adrien’s mind goes blank save for those two sentences repeating themselves over and over like a mantra.

Cue the boss battle music, part two.

Marinette stares at him sadly, making Adrien feel his world shattering around his ears. He wants to simultaneously hide from her judgment and grovel at her feet for forgiveness. Because he’s an established idiot, he does neither.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, but I just—I can’t anymore, Adrien. As much as I love you, I can’t play this game of yours.” She takes a shuddery breath. “You must have thought I was pretty stupid, huh?”

“No, Marinette, it’s not like—”

“You must’ve thought clumsy, tongue-tied Marinette was too dumb to get when she’s being strung along—”

“—that, I was just trying to be a go—”

“—and even if she did notice, she wouldn’t mind. Because she’d be too in love to care.”

Marinette says the last few words softly, but they hit him harder than his father did in _Chat Blanc_.

“And… you were right. I wouldn’t have cared how you treated me so long as you liked me. I would have taken you flirting with me and calling me ‘just a friend’ in the same breath because that’s just how much I cared about you, Adrien.”

“Marinette, I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath to swallow her tears, collect her pride.

“I can believe that. But you made a grave mistake when you messed with my friends. That’s… that’s unforgivable.”

Marinette turns away from him.

In that instant—back turned, aura cold and distant—she looks so much like _them_. She looks like future Marionette-Marinette, sitting unresponsively on the couch with dead fish eyes, side ponytail, and colorless clothes. She looks like _Emilie Agreste_ , with the same side ponytail and dressed in the same grey suit as she walked out the door, never to return no matter how much Adrien _wanted_ and _tried_ to be good enough.

A Good Son.

A Good Friend.

“I never meant to hurt you!” Adrien gasps out. Marinette hesitantly turns around, clearly surprised by how panicked he sounds. “I just didn’t want to lose you! I can’t… _lose_ someone again.”

In an instant, she was at his side.

“Hey. Don’t cry, my kitty. It’s okay, I’m here. I would never leave you,” she murmurs soothingly, running her thumbs across his tear-streaked cheeks.

“I—but you said—unforgivable.” Adrien hiccups. “I hurt so many people.”

“I know, but I said that because I was angry. I still am, actually. What you did was vile, childish, and disrespectful,” Marinette says sternly. Still holding his face in her hands, she stares the blond down to make sure he got the point.

A part of Adrien vehemently disagrees— _I did what was necessary, if only you could see, you have to see, I’ll make you—_ but another, much larger and louder part just recoils in submission— _I’m sorry, please don’t be mad, I can be better, whatever you want._

The ice in her gaze thaws. “But… I get it. I know what it’s like to be jealous, so I can see why you’re so…”

Frowning, Marinette’s eyes roam over all of him. Despite his regrets, Adrien instinctively bristles, a retort ready on his tongue— _he was a cool cat, thank you very much—_ but the she glares at him with enough seriousness to shut him up and enough teasing to calm him down— _yes, yes kitty, whatever you say._ Even with their identities known to each other, they were still Paris’s iconic superhero duo. They take a moment to acknowledge their full tacit understanding before Marinette sighs.

“I can’t speak for the people in your life before you came to our school, Adrien, but the rest of us are your friends. We care about you. _I_ care about you.” Sensing Adrien shudder and shake at the simple truth, Marinette’s arms wrap even tighter around him. “You don’t need to do all of this to make us want to stay. Who you are is enough _._ Understand?”

“…yeah.” It takes him too long to reply.

The girl frowns, pulling away but still keeping her hands on his shoulders. “I’m not convinced, so repeat after me: ‘ _I’m enough.’”_

“I’m… enough.”

“ _Eh…”_

“I’m enough.”

“One more time, with feeling~”

“But I don’t _feel_ like I’m enough, that’s the thing!” Adrien snaps. Marinette’s eyes widen, making him sigh at himself. Running a hand through his hair, he amends, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I just—you’re amazing, you know?”

Red blooms on Marinette’s face. “Wh-what?”

“You are way too nice, Marinette. Everyone always wants something from you, and because you’re way too nice, you never say no,” he chuckles ruefully. “Right now, even. _Comforting me_. I don’t deserve you as a friend.”

She flicks his forehead, retorting, “That’s not for you to decide.”

 _That’s… right. It’s not, isn’t it?_ Adrien thinks.

“And what have you decided, knowing what you know?” Adrien asks quietly, putting everything into her hands.

He’s honestly scared. He’s aware of Marinette’s forgiving nature, has heard her warm words of encouragement, but he also knows that he’s not… like her when it comes to accepting love. He feels like some part of him will always be dark. He feels like it might be too much to handle.

“I’ve decided that we’re going to be friends just like you wanted.”

Just like that, she subverts expectations. His green eyes grow comically wide.

“Marinette, thank y—"

“But! Some conditions,” Marinette declares, holding up two fingers. “The first: apologize to and stop terrorizing our friends. The second: I’d like for you to be more honest. I’m not asking for perfect. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. I just want… better. Can you do that?” She gives him a small, hopeful smile.

Adrien feels like he could do anything if she just kept looking at him like that. Without hesitation, he nods.

“Good. We can start with the first: your victims, for lack of a better word. Minus you and me, there’s 13 people in our class. I think they’ve even formed a support group.” She shakes her head in disbelief.

Adrien heart sinks. He wishes it were that easy. “Well, milady, about that number… it _might_ be higher because I didn’t limit it to just our classmates.”

Marinette narrows her eyes at him. “How many more, Adrien?”

“Maybe one or two…” The blond hesitates, then mumbles under his breath, “dozen…”

_“ADRIEN!”_

_“What?_ It’s not my fault you’re so popular! I didn’t even go through the entire fan club roster,” he huffs, pouting and crossing his arms. Knowing that what he did was wrong didn’t erase the fact that it was an absolute _pain_ dealing with so many people. His lady should appreciate his diligence!

“I have a _fan club?”_ Marinette exclaims.

Adrien raises a questioning eyebrow that screams _“why wouldn’t you have one?”_

“Urgh, no, not even going there. Who are these people then? I’ll make a list.”

Marinette then grabs his baton. She scrolls past notes with titles like “How to Be a Great Friend,” “Future Diary Quotes,” and “Things I Really Like About Marinette.” She can’t help but notice that the last note has a file size of 18.58 GB. She stifles back a snort.

The blond peeks over her shoulder. “Are you sure, milady?” he questions.

She glares. He gulps, then sighs. This was going to be a long night. 

“All right, but don’t interrupt me. I’ll lose track. Théo Barbot, Nadja and Manon Chamack, the Gorilla, Ella and Etta, August—”

It won’t be limited to just tonight. There would always be the threat of that dark, empty future, and of the equally dark and empty feeling that comes up in his chest every so often.

“—Jalil Kubdel, XY, Simon Grimault, Clara Nightingale, Santa—”

But Marinette is leaning beside him and alternating between giggling and sighing at each new name he lists out. Every so often, she’d glance up at him with a soft look in her eyes and pink on her cheeks. She cared for him. Loved him, even. Apparently, others did too.

“—the Tsurugis, Vincent Aza, Wayhem, Nathalie Sancoeur, Fang—”

Somehow, Adrien thinks it’ll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I intended the Ladybug/Marinette deal to be more humorous, but all the angst poured out and it got a little bit Dark™. Jealousy _sucks._ Anxious attachment developed from the Agreste family's great parenting--Adrien really should be more screwed up in the show.
> 
> Thanks for khanofallorcs and quicksilver from the Miraculous Ladybug Discord for beta reading! I was like a chicken without a head writing for this chapter.
> 
> So... now that that's out of the way... onwards to the last student to be traumatized~


	16. Adrien Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! It's been a while! Super cool to see people getting a chuckle out of this though. 
> 
> (also, ugh, sorry, this ended up being a lot longer than I thought. About 5k-ish. Gotta split it up into two a g a i n)

The classroom is situated a bit like a courtroom, with Miss Bustier’s desk serving as the witness stand and the desks as everything else. The Friendly Fourteen—rebranded after Chloé joined just five minutes ago—stare him down as judge, jury, and executioner. Adrien would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit nervous. After all, he has to earn his friends’ forgiveness, both for himself and for his friendship with Marinette.

For their part, the Friendly Fourteen are extremely nervous. As such, the members are trying to play off like they weren’t part of a support group stuck with the reason for said support group's existence.

“Hello everyone,” Adrien greets them. “I want to talk about the past couple of weeks.”

“Oh wow, that’s why we are all here, alone, with no witnesses?” Sabrina observes loudly. “I’m sure we’re all here to not talk about a shared classmate!”

“Yeah, that is a very good point! I wonder what about?” Nino declares stiffly.

“Guys, I just wanted to talk about the reason why you’re all ignoring Marinette.”

“Oh wowie, wowie, who could have caused that?” drawls Chloé, who crosses her arms in an attempt to look So Above It All. She fails.

Myléne meekly offers, “Maybe it’s… someone from outside the schoo—”

“Sore wa chigau yo!” Adrien exclaims, pointing a finger accusingly at Myléne. She squeaks. In his pocket, Plagg facepalms. He knew he should have limited the kid’s anime intake. To his credit though, the blond immediately backtracks. “Sorry. I mean, no, that’s wrong. Here’s exactly what happened.”

He then materializes another pull-down chart in which the events of the past month or so are pieced together in a manga-style comic. As the class watches, Adrien cheerfully explains how and why he orchestrated each intentionally traumatizing event. Some parts were a bit unclear or nonsensical, like Kim’s incident (“I still don’t understand how he could run so quickly,” Kim complains), Nino’s scene (“Babe, what were you both doing out so late?” Alya hisses to her boyfriend), and Marinette’s confrontation (“Did this guy seriously ambush Marinette for spending time with… Marinette?” comes Alix’s bewildered whisper), but who cares about that? Certainly not Adrien, because he glosses over them with a smile.

“The culprit is me. I’m asking you all for your forgiveness, and I’m willing to do anything for it,” Adrien finishes.

Lila is the first to break the silence. “…anything?” she asks cautiously.

Adrien nods. “Anything. I want to make this right.”

The Friendly Fourteen huddle together. “100 percent chance Marinette put him up to this,” Max could be heard muttering in that crowd, “but there’s an equal percentage chance of him being genuinely repentant.” A murmur of agreement ripples through the students and once more they converse amongst themselves. Adrien catches a “punishment” and “good enough” in there before they all return to their seats.

“Adrien Agreste has been found guilty! Your sentence: a specialized session with all members of the Friendly Fourteen,” Rose declares happily. “You will watch each of us spend time with Marinette _without interference_. Only then will we accept your apology.”

His phone buzzes as the screen floods with brand new calendar invitations. The first one:

__

> _Invitation: Sketching with Nathaniel, Mon, 5:00 - 6:00 pm_
> 
> _Reply: Yes | Maybe | No_

_So… that’s how they want to play it? All right then~_

Without even reading the rest, Adrien chuckles and hits ‘Yes’ to every single invitation.

A heart-pumping psychedelic pop and EDM mixture plays in the background, softly at first, then building in intensity. Chloé casually pulls out Mr. Cuddly—though he’s sporting a monochrome suit instead of his usual naked yellow self—and sets him on her desk.

“Give it everything you’ve got!~” Adrien sing-songs cheerfully.

He grins, bowing his head in a show of submission. Nobody is fooled, but he doesn’t intend for them to be. Adrien may be sincere, repentant, and _tamed,_ but he’s still a competitive little shit. He’d show them all that he was worthy of being Marinette’s friend. Everyone sees it for the challenge it is, and they sport similar expressions, all sly smirks and shadowy, hidden eyes.

It’s… punishment time!

-x-

**Like One of Your French Girls**

Sitting in the art room with Nathaniel, Adrien already regrets everything.

_This was torture. No, this was worse than torture._

“Hold still, Marinette,” Nathaniel mutters, a sketchbook in one hand and a charcoal pencil in the other. Squinting over the paper, the artist stares at the posing girl intently before adding some more details. However, something was off from when he had first started drawing Marinette. “No, like this—”

Ignoring the green-eyed glare drilling holes in the back of his head, Nathaniel hops down from his seat and adjusts Marinette’s arm a little higher, moves her hips a bit more to the left.

_…this is fine._

“Ah… sorry,” Marinette apologizes sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize. You’re doing great,” Nathaniel replies. He then returns to his stool, reaches out a hand, and clears his throat imperiously. “Kneaded eraser.”

Adrien Agreste sullenly passes the other boy the grey putty rubber.

“No, I meant about _… you know_.” She rolls her eyes as Adrien pouts.

“Oh, him?” Nathaniel asks, cerulean eyes glancing at the other boy amusedly. Those normally innocent blues are just a little teasing, a tad vindictive. “He’ll behave the entire session if he wants my forgiveness, right, _Ad-ri-en?”_

Adrien gives them a shaky thumbs up.

-x-

**God Mode**

“Hold still and _take it!”_ Marinette huffs, somehow out of breath.

A grunt. “Agh— _make me!”_

“I’ll have you _beg_ for mercy, Max!”

A groan. “I’m gonna come!”

“NO—NOT THERE—”

A loud moan… of defeat.

On the screen, Max’s MX-01 cleaves Marinette’s LB-03 into two. The Ladybug-themed robot collapses, oil spewing everywhere as her opponent dances on the remains and ‘MX-01 WINS!’ flashes overhead. Marinette throws down her controller in frustration as Max cackles victoriously.

Nearly frothing with rage, Marinette points at the television. “This mod you installed is _so—_ ”

“Unnecessarily violent? Surprisingly amazing? Totally epic?” Max offers.

“Yes!” the girl exclaims. She picks up the fallen controller, pauses, then reluctantly holds it out to Markov and Adrien, their two spectators. “Well, I lost. Did any of you guys want to go?”

Adrien was just about to say yes—he didn’t want to play, but anything was better than hearing _that—_ but the little robot flits in front of him.

“Not at all. Please continue your very involved 1v1 with Max and just Max with no one else!” Markov says happily, his face an unassuming ( ╹ ◡ ╹ ). Marinette beams and the two gamers resume their questionable trash talk.

Adrien glares at the robot. “Why,” he growls to it quietly, “did you say that?”

For a split second, ( ╹ ◡ ╹ ) becomes Ψ(⚈ ◡⚈)Ψ. Staring into the cold, black eyes of humanity’s future overlord, Adrien shudders. Max shoots him a somewhat apologetic look. It seems as if the little robot picked up a few things from Adrien.

“Because sadism is fun,” Markov chirps.

 _Well, at least it can’t get much worse than this,_ Adrien contents himself.

-x-

**Splash Damage**

_This is much worse._

They are back at the rec center’s massive indoor pool, ‘they’ being Kim, Marinette, Adrien, and whoever else was here to swim. Adrien has an innocent smile playing on his lips, but the other swimmers steer clear from the increasingly Murderous Aura surrounding him, especially when Kim gets close to correct Marinette’s arm stroke.

Except one.

_Splash. Splash. Splash._

“Hey.” Small waves collide with Adrien’s right shoulder as a girl with short red hair swims close. Ondine smiles at him, prompting the blond to tear his eyes away from Kim and Marinette to smile back shakily. “No need to be jealous. While those two are doing their own thing, wanna race? Three laps freestyle.”

“I’m not _jealous_ ,” Adrien automatically retorts. “Why would I be jealous? Marinette’s just a goo—” He cuts himself off when suddenly, his mind spawns a childlike, cartoon version of Marinette.

 _’Be more honest!’_ Chibi-Marinette chides him, looking both adorable and murderous.

He half-sighs, half-swoons.

“I… guess I am jealous. A little bit,” he admits. Ondine lets out the breath she was holding, sticking out her tongue when Adrien play-glares at her. “Thanks, Ondine. A race sounds great.”

-x-

**Through Your Teeth**

The Agreste limousine pulls up in front of the Rossi residence. With some reluctance, Adrien—dressed in a sharp black suit—steps out and knocks on the door. It swings open to reveal a smug-looking Lila Rossi, also dressed to the nines for the Agreste fashion show tonight.

“Good evening,” he says cheerily.

“Where’s Marinette?” she asks, peering behind him.

“Sorry Lila,” Adrien apologizes in a clearly-not-sorry voice, “but punishment or not, I’m not letting Marinette get near you. You’ll just have to be happy with me.”

The twin-tailed girl sniffs. “Good. And for the last time, I _don’t_ have a crush on Marinette,” Lila snaps.

“Denial isn’t very flattering. You should just be honest about your feelings,” Adrien tells her wisely, shaking his head. The blonde is seemingly oblivious, his outward body language radiating innocence, but his green eyes are mischievous and bely the truth. He knows _exactly_ what he’s doing. “Would you like to leave now? We have a _whole night_ ahead of us~”

Lila narrows her eyes.

“Tell everyone I was with you tonight and you have your forgiveness,” she seethes. “And drop the crush thing!”

“Glad to know we have an agreement.”

Adrien chuckles, wrapping an arm around the girl. The other hand lifts up his phone to take a quick selfie—the best lies have a smidgen of truth, after all. Once he is satisfied with the picture, he posts it on Facegrammer.

****

> **Adrien Agreste**
> 
> all duressed up for father’s fashion show with **Lila Rossi** ( ⓛ ω ⓛ *) 
> 
> **_[canyoublamehimtho.jpg]_ **
> 
> ♡ ⌨ ✑

-x-

**Just Re-Lax**

In the stands of a stadium, Plagg and Tikki munch on cheddar popcorn.

“Plagg. Is this punishment sequence a part of the Modern Mating Ritual?” Tikki asks in between mouthfuls of cheesy junk food. She watches as Alix introduces Marinette and Adrien to her _all-girls_ lacrosse team.

The black kwami nods. “Oh sure, sure,” he replies with his mouth full.

“Why? Your holder looks like he is in pain.”

They both observe Adrien go through a screwed-up version of the Five Stages of Grief, his expression morphing from shock, to relief, to jealousy, to fear, to beaten-down acceptance. Meanwhile, the pink-haired girl has her arms around Marinette’s to show her the proper way to pass a ball. The blond looks like he wants to take a million pictures— _but Plagg, look at her, she’s so cuuuuute!—_ and weep a million tears— _I can handle sticks too, why isn’t that me? So mean!_

Plagg’s face scrunches up as he banishes Adrien’s voice from his head.

“Yeah… that’s… part of it,” he lies to his other half. He scrambles for an example. “It’s like us, you know? Creation exists in balance with destruction. Same concept. Everyone loves a little Hurt-Comfort.”

Tikki nods sagely.

“I see. So the more Adrien suffers, the stronger their love will be?”

“ _Exactly.”_

The pink-red kwami flutters cutely. “Then I wish your holder very much pain!” she professes.

 _Me too, sugar cube. Me too,_ Plagg thinks, chomping down on another piece of popcorn.

-x-

**Kiss and Make Up**

This fine Saturday afternoon has Juleka, Marinette, Adrien, Vincent, and a makeup artist gathered at the Place des Vosges. With a little help from the makeup artist—though not a lot, since Juleka actually did know her stuff—and some direction from the eclectic photographer, the girls are doing a photoshoot.

“Yes, that’s it! Now, give me the smile when your mom brings in the spaghetti!” the photographer, Vincent, yells as he contorts into impossible poses to snap pictures.

The girls are beautiful.

Juleka poses for the camera. She’s still as reserved as ever, but with every click, every shutter of the camera, some of that shyness melts into a quiet, sturdy confidence. It helps that every so often, Marinette would encourage the other girl by laughing or clinging onto an arm. Smiling ruefully, Adrien watches as the wallflower blooms.

However, when he starts to feel the guilt creeping onto him like Discord boys when they see someone with an anime girl profile picture, Juleka shoots him a smile. There are no hard feelings.

He… feels a little better.

“Okay! And now, oh no! There is only one fork! You must share the spaghetti by feeding each other! Now embrace! I want to _feel_ the _emotion!”_ Vincent cries. His fingers are in the most stereotypical Italian gesture. “Show me shyness, yes, yes, yes!”

…never mind.

-x-

**By Any Other Name**

After school, two blondes sit in an empty classroom. They are both facing each other and leaning on the desk between them in matching poses—elbows on the table, face resting atop interlocked fingers, _you know the one._

“I want Marinette available at _every_ girls’ hangout from now on,” Rose demands cheerfully. “She makes Juleka’s aura happy and tingly.”

“Ehehe, isn’t that a bit much?” Adrien replies sweetly. “Three out of ten.”

“Nine~”

“Five~”

It suddenly becomes very, very cold.

“Hm… you’re not really in any position to negotiate, are you, Adrien? Take nine or you don’t get my approval,” Rose sing-songs.

“My Language is at Rank 2. You do realize I can forge your letter of forgiveness?” Adrien says blankly, his eyes devoid of light even as he smiles.

In an equally unsettling manner, Rose happily responds, “And you do know my Chemistry is at Rank 2. I can poison food... and drink.”

Green eyes meet blue in a chilling clash of wills. She looks pointedly at the juice box Adrien holds, courtesy of her. He takes another long swig of the apple juice, calling her bluff. She then pulls out her phone, casually scrolling through her contacts, her thumb hovering dangerously over the M section. She looks at him smugly.

Hurriedly, Adrien offers, “Six out of every ten, but I teach you how to overpower others’ Yandere Vision.”

“Hm…”

“And I’ll send you the professional shots from Juleka’s photoshoot?”

_“Hm…”_

“… _after_ I viciously promote them to all of my contacts in the industry?~”

Rose beams. “You’re the best~”

The chill in the air dissipates, and they smile in complete understanding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I should probably finish up writing Adrien, Good Friend.  
> Also me: Reads 30 soukoku fanfics. Listens to "sore wa chigau yo" remix on YT for 3 hours. Cries about angsty MLB AUs.
> 
> Fingers crossed I can stay on track and post the next (AND LAST) installment within the next 36 hours~ See you then!


	17. Adrien Part 2

**Poetry Slam**

Ivan, as it turns out, was quite the poet. His ‘punishment’ for Adrien consisted of bringing Marinette and Adrien to a poetry slam at the new teahouse. Adrien had to admit—it was relaxing, despite the navy-haired girl sitting completely opposite him with her attention solely on the stage.

“…once I believed love poems were foolish, yet now I do nothing but dream about love,” the heavyset boy recites. Everyone claps as Ivan returns to his seat beside Marinette. He sets down his paper to see Marinette looking at him with her hands clasped to her chest and sparkles in her eyes.

“Ivan, that was beautiful,” she whispers. Adrien feels the familiar ugly feeling rise up in his chest—jealousy, not pity, he realizes that now.

The black-haired boy blushes. “Thanks. You think Myléne will like it?”

“Of course!” Marinette is quick to respond. “But it’s a lot different from your previous works. It’s more… serious.”

Ivan clears his throat.

“You’re right that it’s different, but I’ve realized being with Myléne isn’t always about love songs, anniversaries, and kisses,” he explains slowly, quietly. “Sometimes love is being grateful that someone is always there waiting for you.”

His grey eyes meet green. Adrien smiles softly, feeling the unpleasantness within slowly but surely dissipate.

_Right._

-x-

**Scaredy Cat**

In a movie theater, Adrien hisses, “Plagg, _help!”_ He’s trembling from fear, but it’s so dark that only Plagg notices.

 _Who would have thought that the scariest guy here can’t handle a horror movie?_ Plagg thinks, crossing his arms to hide his own Very Brave shaking. “No,” he answers petulantly.

“B-b-b-but—”

“I s-said _no_ , kid. This is y-your fault anyways!”

_“I t-thought it w-w-was going to b-be like Tokyo Gh—"_

The ghoul onscreen suddenly wails at the audience, jaws open, blood pouring out of its eyes, the works. Several audience members scream, including Adrien— _and no, Plagg wasn’t one of them, kwamis don’t_ scream. After the screams die down though, said kwami had been slotted snugly into the crook of Adrien’s arm.

“I-it’s just because it’s getting cold in here,” Plagg mumbles, his tiny black ears flat on the back of his head. Adrien nods numbly. For the rest of the movie, both halves of Chat Noir huddle together for safety.

Several rows above the duo sit Myléne and Marinette. They share a bucket of popcorn, but the buttery snack is hardly touched as the two enjoy a long, whispered commentary on Scary Haunted Woods III. Turns out, when their boyfriends—or in Marinette’s sad case, sorta-friend-sorta-boyfriend-it’s-complicated—weren’t around, they don’t feel an urge to feign fright. If anything, the cheesy special effects were hilarious.

Myléne has Adrien to thank for this new hobby of movie-bashing. After all, he had voluntarily taken the lone available seat near the front so the girls could sit together—to his own detriment, apparently, since he was such a scaredy cat. She quietly resolves to sing “Smelly Wolf” to him later.

For now though, the dreadlocked girl turns back to Marinette.

-x-

**Slow Blinks**

Sabrina plops down next to him. Adrien spares her an acknowledging glance before resuming his watch over Marinette, who is altering the black cat costume.

“I’ve been reading up on cat behaviors like purring and head bunting,” she says conversationally, “to really get into the Chat Noir character, and I’ve noticed he does this sort of slow blink at Ladybug—that means affection—and everyone knows about his crush.”

Adrien blushes a little. He’s never been shy about his affections for his Lady, but it’s different now that he knows Ladybug was actually his friend Marinette.

“Oh?” he replies, praying that Marinette wasn’t listening in.

Sabrina nods earnestly. “Well, I’ve noticed you doing the same thing to Marinette. That makes those threatening cat gifs you sent me okay. If someone were trying to steal Chloé away from me, I’d probably do the same thing. Maybe.” His eyes widen at that.

 _Him? Slow blinking at Marinette?_ His brain fizzles.

“Wha—I don’t—that’s—shut up, Sabrina,” Adrien grumbles good-naturedly, sounding a lot like a certain blonde heiress. Then he takes one look at Sabrina’s surprised face and quickly amends, “I’m just joking, but you’re wrong. I shouldn’t have done that to you because you’re my friend too.

Apparently, that was the right— _or wrong? Maybe?_ —thing to say because the shorter girl absolutely _glows_. Marinette— _she was definitely listening in, Plagg can you destroy memories?—_ casts him an amused, but unsympathetic look as Sabrina sidles up to him. Adrien is strongly reminded of an imprinting puppy.

_Oh. Oh no._

_“Sure thing, new bestie!~”_

-x-

**Record Scratch**

All prior punishments from the class were based on their traumatizing event, so it stands that Nino’s would be the same. There was just one problem: their secret identities.

Adrien knows Nino’s identity, and Nino knows Adrien knows. Conversely, Nino knows Adrien’s identity, and Adrien knows Nino knows. That’s all fine and good. The problem is that Nino knows Ladybug’s identity, but she doesn’t know he knows, and she certainly doesn’t know that it’s Adrien’s fault Nino knows without Ladybug/Marinette knowing.

The whole thing makes Nino’s head spin.

It was Chat’s— _Adrien’s_ —idea. The idea: Nino would walk Marinette home again as Carapace, all without letting her catch on to any of this mess. Adrien would be ‘tortured’ seeing his good friend/crush/lowkey girlfriend spend time with someone else, and Nino would get his punishment for the trauma.

Thing is that Nino has been best friends with the guy for nearly two years. _Two years._ He’s going to need a little more.

“Hey Carapace. Funny seeing you this late again,” Marinette greets friendlily.

Carapace looks behind his shoulder, meeting Chat Noir’s eyes. The cat-themed hero grins widely and gives him a thumbs up. _‘Remember our plan!’_ his best friend not-so-subtly mouths. Nino sighs, then turns back to Marinette. With the air of someone Who Gives No Shits, he finally responds.

“Hi Ladybug.”

“…”

“NINO _YOU TRAITOR!”_ Adrien cries/whines/screams. Nino shoots him a sorry-not-sorry smile.

The immediate area suddenly drops to subzero temperatures as the girl’s smile freezes. A Terrifying Aura surrounds Marinette, and it’s somehow much more horrifying than Adrien’s Very Scary Aura. Once again, Nino is reminded why Ladybug was the leader and not Chat… who was currently on all fours, sprinting as far away as he could from his furious, newly transformed partner.

“YOU HAVE LITTER-ALLY NO RIGHT TO BE ANGRY WHEN YOU DETRANSFORMED IN FRONT OF ME!” Chat yells behind his back.

_“CHAT!”_

-x-

**Bee-friend**

The next night is Sushi Dinner Date Take 2, sans Adrien.

Marinette gives Adrien a dead expression. “Please tell me you didn’t reveal anything to Chloé.”

“You think she would be acting like this if she knew?” Adrien answers.

“Yoo-hoo!” Both teenagers look over to see Chloé with one foot inside the limo and an arm swinging wildly. The other blonde glares at them over her shades. “Come on, stop talking to your boyfriend, Dupain-Cheng _._ I have plans!”

Marinette sighs as Adrien pats her on the back.

“Bee-lieve me, that’s her way of showing affection,” he chuckles. “And we’re _friends,_ Chloé, get it right!”

Marinette immediately leaves his side with a look of mock-disgust that mirrored Chloé’s look of real-disgust. Judging by the girls’ pleasantly surprised expressions upon that realization—that they were more alike than they thought—they would be fine.

…even if their dinner date would mostly be slandering his very good name.

As Adrien watches two of the most important girls in his life drive off, he finds that he feels… content, not jealous at all. They’d both come back, and with sushi even. Shaking his head, Adrien pulls out his phone to see if Nino was free.

He had to get even— _relax, Plagg, nothing like our usual—_ for last night, after all.

-x-

**Cats and Dogs**

“President.”

“Vice President now, actually.”

Adrien shyly points behind and above the girl. When Alya turns, she’s met with the same neon sign reading “Founder and President of the Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fan Club,” only some of the lights have been shattered from when it fell— _was kicked, but who’s keeping track of property damage_ —so now it reads “Pres of the Marine Pain Fan Club.”

“Seriously?” She casts him an unimpressed look for the sign, disguising her actual elation at the promotion.

The blond laughs a little nervously. “Well, the lights guy said he’ll get to fixing it next week. Right now, he’s busy with reparations from my visit with Jagged Stone—don’t ask. But check your phone. There’s more to the presidency than flashing lights.”

Alya pulls her phone out, her eyes widening at the names of the attachments in her texts.

 **Vice President:** _[CompleteClubRoster.txt]_

 **Vice President:** _[Donations.txt]_

 **Vice President:** _[Venues.txt]_

 **Vice President:** _[RivalClubHitList.txt]_

“Just use my name if anyone gives you trouble or wants money,” Adrien finishes. “As President, it is now your responsibility to oversee MDC Fan Club operations… like planning Marinette’s next surprise birthday party.”

Adrien looks like he’s in a lot of pain when he gives up birthday planning rights, but his watery eyes and shaky smile are sincere. Alya blinks back her own tears. This was truly a monumental apology in the eyes of any Fan Club member.

“Presi—Vice President, I don’t know what to say…” she says, choking up. “You must be really in love with her to go this far…”

 _“What?!_ Um, I just, she _—_ Alya, you’re her best friend, and you deserve it. Just… just do a good job like you did last year. I just hope this will be enough for you to consider forgiving me.”

Alya snorts. “ _Sure._ And I will. I won’t let you down.”

Adrien smiles.

“…but how did you change your contact info? Did you take my—"

Adrien’s smile stiffens. “Don’tworryaboutit.”

-x-

“…can’t believe Kagami let you off without even a duel,” the spotted heroine remarks.

“I mean, she did still give me some points.”

After all is said and done, Ladybug and Chat Noir are lounging on the surface of a flat rooftop, watching footage of the punishments on Chat’s baton. A soft pink blanket is spread out before them, cushioning their bodies along with a basket of baked goods from the Dupain-Cheng bakery. For a while, the only sounds between them are the occasional stifled giggle, half-hearted slap, and audible munching. Adrien thinks that he’s never been so happy before.

After Alya’s clip, Ladybug passes the baton back to her partner.

“And what would those pointers be?” she asks, a playful gleam in her eye.

A witty reply is on the tip of Chat’s tongue, but he holds back thoughtfully with a “Hm… I wonder?” Quietly, he thinks back to Kagami’s—as well as several others’—advice when he had asked for how to “move forward to the next step with Marinette.”

> _“Breathe. Take it slow. Don’t go in without a plan, or protection.”_
> 
> -Kagami Tsurugi
> 
> _“It’s best to take your time as a dyad, but if you’d like to strike a chord…”_
> 
> -Luka Couffaine
> 
> _“Do it to ‘I Am So Painfully Oblivious’ from the album Marinette designed the cover of!”_
> 
> -Jagged Stone
> 
> _“…please ignore Jagged Stone. ‘The View from Behind Your Press Schedule’ is so much better.”_
> 
> -Penny Rolling
> 
> _“You need to make an environment they are comfortable in. For example, your mother has always loved spacious gardens.”_
> 
> -Gabriel Agreste
> 
> _“Aren’t you both a little too young?”_
> 
> -Wang Fu
> 
> _“Ha? I thought you guys got together two chapters ago.”_
> 
> -Plagg

Adrien is doing his best with the very solid advice he has been given.

He’s as relaxed as he ever will be. Luka’s number is on speed-dial if he feels like they need a helping hand. Jagged Stone’s songs are on loop and play quietly in the background. He has set up a small, picnic-like scene lit up with softly glowing candles—cheese-scented of course, because Marinette likes the smell of cheese for some reason. He ignores Master Fu’s words because no disrespect, but the Guardian has waited over half a century to even confess his love to Miss Lenoir _._ He similarly ignores Plagg for reasons.

Anyways—

Adrien turns to Marinette—the Rose to his Jack (only no one dies), the Jungkook to his Jimin (only it’s heterosexual), the Katara to his Zuko (only it’s canon)—with a soft look in his eyes.

Everybody secretly has Feelings for Marinette, so they’re always asking her to do things for them. Because Marinette is Way Too Nice, she never turns them down and thus is too busy to spend time for herself. And with him. But mostly for herself.

He’s spent so long trying to _change_ that. Now, he hopes she’s still the same.

“Chat…” Ladybug murmurs warningly. “You have that look on your face again. You’re planning something.”

He tragically raises a clawed hand over his heart but doesn’t deny it. “My dear lady, you wound me so! And after all the work I’ve done for tonight!” Because he _is_ planning something, but _ouch._

“Right,” Ladybug replies in a deadpan voice. “So, what for then?”

Adrien takes a deep breath, steeling himself. It feels so much like _that night,_ his nerves haywire and his heart hammering wildly. At least it was different this time. This time, if he was rejected, he could suffer forever in the friendzone instead of in the not-a-friendzone.

Scratch that, this was much, _much_ worse.

“Hey. Bugaboo.” She looks at him curiously, and he feels his heart stutter. Hoping she can’t hear the nervousness in his voice— _she can, she totally can—_ he continues, “That night, you asked for two things from me if we were going to stay friends. The first was to apologize to all the people I’ve wronged.”

“All 43 of them, yes,” she affirms, amused, yet reassuring in that teasing quality.

Chat rolls his eyes. “Right… all forty-three. No, don’t give me that look, I got everyone, I promise.”

“Good kitty~”

He takes another deep breath.

“The second was to be more honest. I didn’t know what you meant at first, but I get it now.”

Cautiously, Chat Noir scoots closer and takes her hands into his own. She stares at him, eyes ‘bugged out’ and he chuckles anxiously. Time starts ticking. His hands are shaking.

“Marinette, I don’t want to be just a good friend to you.”

There. He’s said it.

“Adrien…”

“I want to call you mine, but not in a possessive way! Just so that people know you and I are—it’s, I can’t find the words, but you get it? Maybe? I wouldn’t do anything like put a leash on you,” Chat Noir rambles, knowing he’s talking too much, giving too much, but he’s started and now he can’t stop, “unless you like that sort of thing but Alya said you weren’t— _what I’m trying to_ say is you can leash me if you want because I think I’d even be into it—wait, that’s not where I was going—""

“Chat Noir!” Ladybug yells. Her hands grab at his cheeks, again reminiscent of his last ‘confession,’ but she’s smiling this time, her cheeks are a rosy pink, and she might even be tearing up a little.

She’s gorgeous, and he wants to die.

“I love you too, obviously. That’s what you were trying to say, right?” she whispers, half-laughing, half-crying.

_…_

_Oh. All this time, I…_

_OH!_

“I… love you?” Chat’s in awe. He covers her hands with his own. With glassy eyes and cheeks red enough to rival Ladybug’s suit, he repeats, “I love you. Oh my god. Marinette, I love you! Did you know all along? I love you. I love you!”

At least, that’s what it sounds like in his head. In reality, his confession-slash-realization comes out in a symphony of gasps and incredulity: “I—hah? Love—you—me— _hah?_ Oh, oh god—gah—Marinette… you! Know?! _Love you_ —me? _Hah_. You!”

Marinette understands his language—ahem, _Oblivious—_ completely, nodding tearfully along to every garbled declaration.

“I love you too,” she echoes, “I love you so much, Adrien, Chat, everything! I’m so glad you realized… I thought it would take four seasons… I love you so hard!”

But because Marinette could understand him, it should go without saying that she speaks the beautiful language of Oblivious too. Her actual words: “Love you—much? _EH?! Adrien! Chat! What?_ So glad—finally—oh geez, four seasons… I—love—yes!”

Normally, this would be the part where the four parts of the love square come together for one, gratifying, long-awaited kiss. Everyone—the kwamis, the neighbors who live in the building they’ve camped out on, _all of Paris_ —has been waiting for it.

Unfortunately, both teenagers are so caught up in their emotions that really, it’s too much.

Pause.

Then, a twin flash of rose and verdant lights. Plagg and Tikki materialize and look down at their unconscious holders.

“Well,” Plagg huffs irately, “that was a long montage. The author didn’t have the decency to include _my_ punishment! Not that I had one, even though I’m the one that had to go through every single traumatizing event! How rude…”

Despite his harsh words, Plagg proceeds to Not So Subtly check Adrien’s pulse and look for bruises. When Plagg saw that he was fine, he then brutally robs the blond of every bit of cheese he had. Meanwhile, Tikki hovers over the Idiot Pile concernedly.

“Is the Modern Mating Ritual over?” she questions. The kwami rearranges Marinette and Adrien into a more comfortable, T-rated position.

“Oh yeah. We’re finally donezo. Stage clear. End of the fic,” Plagg replies, mouth already wedge-shaped from the camembert.

Tikki hums thoughtfully. “Hm… I thought Marinette would have her own little revenge scene—not that Ladybugs should be vengeful, but…” She shrugs, a serene smile taking over her expression once more. “I’m glad they are finally together, and everyone is happy and satisfied. Right, Plagg?”

She doesn’t notice Plagg staring at her, then at the two humans.

_“Right, Tikki~”_

**Marionette**

"I like it! I just wear this outfit, say whatever bland thing comes to mind, and I get a revenge scene for myself?”

“Yep,” Plagg replies, popping the ‘p.’ He grins cheekily. “And no one gets hurt in the process! Scout’s honor.” He didn’t see anyone hurt in the Burrow all those years ago, anyways.

“Then, my dear kitten, we have a deal.”

Marinette giggles and affectionately scratches the cat kwami behind the ears. Plagg closes his eyes, leans into her touch, and purrs contentedly. He feels safe, warm, _happy_ with this human. She wasn’t Tikki, but Marinette had a loving mischievousness to her he could just _vibe_ with. That wasn’t even mentioning how she read him like a 500k, slow burn, enemies to lovers fic— _easily_ and _eagerly._

Not for the first time, the kwami questions where in the Chat Noir partnership ‘Plagg’ ended and ‘Adrien’ began.

 _All these fluttery feelings. Blugh. Gross!_ he thinks vehemently.

Thankfully, a knock on the door interrupts his internal line of questioning. Plagg immediately ducks behind a throw pillow, rolling his eyes when he recognizes it as one of Adrien’s cringey pun-pillows. Ah well. Staring at a crocheted ‘Feline Cat-atonic’ was worth it for…

_Thump!_

Plagg bites his lip to stifle his cackles when he catches the reflection of his real wielder. He looks horrified, offended, traumatized, and—when his green eyes meet Plagg’s own emerald in the mirror, _because of course he knew the kwami was there, they’re partners—_ a little bit proud.

“Adrien, my good friend, my only friend,” Marinette intones, keeping her voice flat when all she wanted to do was howl with laughter.

Adrien grins wryly. “…heh. You really got me there, Plagg.”

Another thump follows, this time much louder and heavier. An alarmed—and visibly pregnant in this new position–Marinette stands up at the same time an irate Tikki flits out of Adrien’s suit pocket.

“ADRIEN?”

“Plagg, what did you do?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for making it to the end! I hope I've amused some of you, maybe gotten a few laughs here and there. Until next time.


End file.
